


Hawthorn

by Aslemay



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Adult Sarah Williams (Labyrinth), Angst and Feels, BAMF Sarah Williams (Labyrinth), Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fantasy, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Slow Burn, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24982102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aslemay/pseuds/Aslemay
Summary: It has been over a decade since she reached the castle beyond the Goblin City. Sarah attempts to start over in Galway, Ireland, a land of ancient magic and ritual. She doesn't realize that once you get to the center of the Labyrinth, you'll never get out again, and Goblin Kings don't forget easily. "Come away, o human child, to the waters and the wild."
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 24
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : Labyrinth creatures belong to Jim Henson. Original creations are mind. Don't steal my stuff or I'll bog you.

#  [Chapter 1] — The City of Tribes

The winters in Galway were always wet and windy. The harsh ocean breezes catapulted against the harbor city, bringing fresh droplets of chilling rain onto the second-floor window of the house Sarah rented. She had the dream again. Fog. Castles. Broken kings. Shaking her head, she swept the memory to the deeper corners of her mind. Sarah blew on the hand thrown porcelain mug clasped in both of her hands before taking another sip of Assam tea. ‘Perfection.’ She let her forehead fall against the windowpane in her reading nook and exhaled, her warm breath forming a circle of condensation on the glass. The turbulent waters rocked against the harbor. She drew a small ring in the circle of condensation. In the darkness enveloping the early morning hours, she could still glimpse the twinkling lights from the Christmas Market in Eyre Square. This was Sarah’s favorite time of year, between Christmas and New Year’s, when a relative calm settled over the city. She glanced at her wrist. 5:10 AM. She still had 20 minutes before Cedric arrived. Pulling the warm tan cardigan closer to her body, she took another sip of tea, her chestnut hair falling down over her shoulder. She closed her eyes longingly.

‘I wonder what they’re doing now.’ Every other year, Sarah would travel back to Connecticut for the holidays, but it just wasn’t in the cards this year on her stipend. ‘Karen is probably regretting buying Toby the drum set.’ She smiled wistfully. Her father was definitely making waffles with bacon and slapping Toby’s greedy fingers away with the spatula. Even at 13-years-old, there was a little bit of Goblin in him. She frowned at that thought.

‘Stop it, Sarah. No use in going there.’ She thought to herself. She moved to this city three years ago in a panic. Graduating with an English degree with minors in Theatre and Anthropology from NYU didn’t seem to help her land a job. Remembering Robert’s disappointment, she sighed. Employers didn’t seem to value her concentration in mythology and folklore. ‘Lofty ideas and absolute failures.’ She worked in a small bookstore in Brooklyn for a year after college. Acting became more of a past time than a passion. Linda helped her land a gig as Blanche in a modern remake of _A Streetcar Named Desire_. She slipped up on closing night. It was only a fleeting thought, a whisper on the corners of her conscious mind. ‘I wish he could see…’

Immediately, Sarah shut down the reckless thought. Wishes were dangerous, but it was too late. As the curtain closed, mismatched eyes and the crocodile teeth of crooked smile flashed in the back row. She fled the stage and ran to the dressing room. As she changed into her jeans and sneakers, her character’s boa fell to the floor. No one else would have noticed the feather out of place on Blanche’s boa. With trembling fingers, Sarah plucked the tawny feather from her accessory. ‘An owl feather.’ It had not been there before. A dark chuckle echoed from behind her. There was a loud chittering creeping out of the shadowy corners of room. Sarah’s head whipped around the dressing room, but she was alone. She shoved all of her things into her tote and abandoned the feather boa. Racing home to her one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, Sarah skipped out on the after party. That was the last time she went on stage. The was the last night for many things. ‘Hoggle, I’m so sorry.’ The rain started coming down harder as Sarah shivered at the thought.

‘I will not think of him. I will not think of Hoggle. Not today.’ There was a tap on her window. Sarah watched the pebble that had just hit the window fall to the street below.

“Howya, loveen!” Sarah suppressed her laugh at the picture of her friend on the street below. She cracked the window. He was drenched, from her shaggy brown mop of hair down to his tweed trousers and boots.

“Cedric, at this hour, keep your voice down. You’re going to wake up Mrs. Lally!”

“I’m early. Don’t get scarlet. Get yooehrr ass down ‘ere. It’s bucketing down.”

“You really need to buy a new umbrella.”

“Feck off.”

“Give me two minutes! I’ll be right down. We can get Riona on the way.” Sarah rented a room in Mrs. Lally’s small cottage downtown. She was a widow and generally left Sarah to her own devices, but there would be hell to pay if she woke her up at this hour. Tiptoeing past her landlady’s room, she silently descended the stairs and walked through the kitchen. Sarah threw on her bright green rain jacket. Glancing back at the kitchen counter, Sarah eyed the loaf of bread critically, Mrs. Lally’s voice echoing in her mind, “Befahre you go to a fairy-'aoehnted place, mend yooehr prahtections.”

‘Just in case…’ She tore off a piece and shoved it in her pocket. She quickly turned her socks inside out before throwing on her rain boots and stepping out into the rain, expanding her umbrella.

“Took you lahng enooegh.” Cedric rolled his big brown eyes at her and she smirked. They met their first year at her graduate program at NUI Galway. There weren’t many students in the graduate school of archaeology, and Cedric, Riona, and Sarah had become fast friends, bonding over pints of the black stuff and teaching lazy undergrads. Cedric was from Dublin, but Sarah and Riona were the only two Americans in the program. “We’d better leave now if you want to make Cnoc Meadha befahre dawn.” They hurried down the cobbled streets in companionable silence. Reaching Riona’s apartment, they stood in front of the bright yellow door on Prospect Hill.

“Are you going to tell her today?” Sarah asked. Cedric cleared his throat and looked away from her. “Cedric.” No response. “It’s been two years. It’s Christmas.”

“It was Christmas.”

“You’ll never known until you try.” He shuffled his feet.

“You know I’ll make a right bag of it, Sar. Riona and me, we’re…” he trailed off, and grew silent. Sarah shook her head at him, exasperated and knocked on the door

“Just a minute,” a lilting female voice called. “Stop it,” the voice giggled. Riona opened the door, and stuck her face out of the crack, face flushed. “Um, howya. Give me five.” A male hand crept over Riona’s shoulder from inside the flat. “Robbie, stop it.” The hand retreated from her shoulder, and a deep baritone chuckle came from within. Cedric shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away from the door, Riona’s eyes following.

“What’s the story, Riona?” Sarah whispered.

“Oh, you know, just some craic after the undergrads finished finals. He’s been at my house all week!” She whispered back.

“Riona!” Sarah exclaimed. Riona laughed, her brown eyes twinkling above her freckles, blonde hair falling in her eyes.

“Mmmm, I can’t help it. He has a great ass. Can he come with us to Cnoc Meadha?”

“This was supposed to be our trip! We’ve been planning it since November.”

“But I really like him!” Sarah glanced over her shoulder and Cedric, worrying her fingers in the hem of her raincoat.

“It’s fine,” Cedric mumbled walking over. “Let’s all go.” Riona squealed.

“Oh, thank you! I love you guys! You’ll like him. He’s great!”

Fifteen minutes later, they all piled into Riona’s car. Cedric rushed to the front seat, and Robbie shrugged, slipping into the back with Sarah. She eyed him with cool suspicion. He had pale blue pointed eyes with an olive complexion and dark black hair. She didn’t trust anyone that good looking.

“Heyo.” He smiled mischievously. There was something pleasant about his smile, the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners. Maybe she could trust him a little. “Riona says you two are ‘er best mates. Good to meet you!” She smiled back. Cedric frowned further sinking into the front seat.

“Robbie is in a band, Sar! That’s how we met. Hey, Cedric, you still play guitar, right?” Cedric looked over at her and mumbled an affirmative. “Grumpy this morning, you are. You guys have to come see him play.”

“I’d love to,” Sarah tilted her head to one side. “Where do you play, Robbie?”

“Riona is joeht flatterin me! We joest play in a cahver band on Thursdays in de local pub.”

“I’m in. We’ll be there next week!” Riona responded for the group. Cedric continued his silence, which creeped awkwardly into the rest of the car. Robbie eyed Cedric carefully.

“Where are we going?” Robbie asked

“Cnoc Meadha.” Sarah responded.

“Ah.” He responded. Sarah looked at him expectantly. “What’s Knock Made Ah?”

“Comb ohn man.” Cedric said, “Yer local.”

“I never paid moech attention in school.” Cedric rolled his eyes. “Well I’m naht a doctorate nerd like all o’ you.”

“Oh Robbie, I’d smack you if I weren’t driving. Sarah, can you tell it? You have the best Shahrazad voice out of all of us.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” the other three occupants of the car chorused.

“Comb ohn, Sarah. It’s a fahrty-minute drive.” Cedric’s dark eyes pleaded with her. ‘Traitor,’ she thought. ‘He just doesn’t want to listen to Riona lose her mind over Robbie.

“Bullies. Fine.” Sarah took a deep breath, her emerald eyes flashing as she remembered the tale. “This is the tale of Ethna, the bride who was not stolen. Cnoc Meadha or Knockma Hill is an ancient place, a seat of power for the fairy folk. Finvarra, or Fin Bheara, was King of the Daoine Sidhe and Connacht King of the Fairies, and Cnoc Meadha was his home. Some even say Finvarra was the King of the Dead. Although, Finvarra was married to another Sidhe, Oonagh, he loved mortal women passionately, much to the ire of his wife, more beautiful than any woman on earth. We think,” Sarah said quietly glancing at her counterparts, “that Finvarra was actually one of the ancient race, the Tuatha de Danann. Most of the Tuatha De Danann were forced to flee Ireland with the Milesians arrived, but Finvarra refused to leave, due to his love of mortals. Finvarra made a truce with the Milesians to not slaughter him or the remainder of his people if he agreed to go underground. On the hill, Cnoc Meadha, there is a ruin called Finvarra’s castle. The remaining Tuatha de Danann lived underground in this castle and in other great underground cities and the trees surrounding them.” Sarah looked out the window as she continued her tale. These stories always made her think of another place underground. Robbie narrowed his eyes and studied Sarah carefully as she took another deep breath.

“Anyway, so Ethna was said to be the most beautiful woman in all of Ireland and was a new bride to a young lord. Her husband, Lord Conrad, held a celebration as he was so enamored of her beauty the day following her wedding. He held the festivities in his castle, which was very close to the fairy hill covering Finvarra’s palace. Lord Conrad was cautious of Finvarra, but routinely set out offerings of wine and bread to the fairy king and was always rewarded with fair crops. His land knew no drought. The night of the celebrations, Ethna’s golden hair was as radiant as the sun, her gray eyes reflecting the moon’s light as she danced with her husband. When she went to switch partners, she fell to the floor, and nothing would wake her. Lord Conrad ordered her carried to her bed and did not leave her side until she woke the next morning, speaking of nothing but a beautiful land full of strange creatures and perpetual sunset sky.” It sounded like the Labyrinth when Sarah recounted her tale. It had been thirteen years since she stood by the barren tree overlooking his kingdom.

“Although he ordered her door guarded, Lord Conrad found her bed empty the next morning, both guards fast asleep outside the door. She was gone. Although search parties sought her out in the forests and neighboring town, Ethna had disappeared completely. Lord Conrad sought out his friend, King Finvarra, for help to find his beloved. Reaching the Rath, Lord Conrad overheard a quiet female voice, “Lord Conrad will never see her again. Poor man. I saw King Finvarra carrying Ethna into the palace, grinning like a fool.”

“He could win her back,” a male voice responded. “If he could dig a hole into the heart of the Rath. The light of the sun would release her.” There was pause and then a loud burst of laughter from both voices.

“A mortal could never best Finvarra.”

“Of course not.” The male voice chortled. Lord Conrad was not to be dissuaded. He grabbed twenty of his strongest men and the set to work, digging a trench deep and wide. They slept that night hoping they would reach the heart of the Rath the next day, but when the woke up, it was if the trench had never existed, bright green grass growing over their hours of hard labor. Lord Conrad entreated the villagers for more help, but the same result occurred the next two days. A gentle female voice whispered in his ear, the same voice that originally mocked his plight, ‘Salt, my love. Pour salt in the trenches.’ He headed the advice of the spirit, and the next morning his trenches were untouched. Fearing for the safety of the Tuatha de Danann, Finvarra appeared before Lord Conrad. They were no longer friends.”

“’If you cease your digging, I will return your bride at dusk,’ Finvarra lamented mournfully. As the men laid down their tools, Ethna walked through the deep cleft in the mouth of the glen, and Lord Conrad carried her away, back to his home.” Sarah paused in her story and tilted her head thoughtfully. “We all love ancient folklore,” she explained to Robbie and he nodded expectantly, waiting for her to continue, “and as archaeologists have a love of landscape and local history. You can still see the cleft in the Fairy Glen where Ethna reportedly walked through.”

“And they lived happily ever after?” Robbie quipped, grinning like a fool.

“Not quite.” Sarah replied. He frowned. “Ethna lay motionless as stone for a year and a day, not eating, aging, or drinking. The castle inhabitants were afraid she ate the food of the Fae and that her soul was still trapped underground with Finvarra and his people. Finvarra had closed off his world to mortals after Lord Conrad retrieved his bride. Lord Conrad in his grief rode to the fairy glen in tears, and the female spirit returned to him. ‘Oh, Lord Conrad, your wife lives.’ He lifted his head. ‘You must take out the fairy pin from her waist band and bury it in the earth. Burn the sash to which it is fastened and scatter the ashes. Her soul will return to you.’

‘Thank you, spirit.’ He galloped home on his horse and after burning the ashes from her sash, scattered them. Finding the fairy pin, Lord Conrad buried it under a Hawthorn bush where no one could disturb it. Ethna opened her eyes when he returned and fell into his arms.

‘My love,’ he murmured, holding her tightly to him. ‘You have returned.’

‘I have missed you, my lord.’ Her melodic voice carried in the wind of the castle, a smile on her lips, which did not quite reach her eyes. It is said they lived happily ever after, but…” Sarah looked out the window again. They had arrived. The path to Cnoc Meadha stretched out from the edge of the parking lot. Her voice turned to a whisper. “It was in her eyes, the servants would whisper, when she trailed off at the end of a sentence, when her eyes rested a second too long on the horizon, when she stopped eating in the middle of meal, or when she hummed a lullaby to thin air with her eyes closed.” Sarah opened the car door and swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t see the shadow skitter under the wheel of the car. She could almost hear his mocking voice, ‘Even if you get to the center of the Labyrinth, you’ll never get out again.’

“A part of her soul would always be caught underground.” Sarah finished with foreboding. The rain had stopped. They all stepped out of the car and looked up to the three cairns at the top of the hill.


	2. The Goddess of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THREE YEARS PRIOR TO CNOC MEADHA IN THE CASTLE BEYOND THE GOBLIN CITY

**Disclaimer:** All Labyrinth character's belong to Jim Henson. All original characters are mine. I write this because the goblins tell me to, not for any profitable gain, and it's super fun.

#  [Chapter 2] — The Goddess of Death

##  _Three years prior in the castle beyond the Goblin City_

Black leather gloves tapped on the edge of the throne methodically as the sulking monarch smacked his boot rhythmically with his crop. Goblins were scattered around the throne room, which smelled of goblin ale and drunk creatures. Two goblins were attempting to set the tapestries on fire. One of the goblins actually was on fire. Another was chewing on a dirty sock.

“This is my life.” Jareth groaned, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the throne. A chicken squawked in deathly fear as it ran across the throne room, chased by three inebriated goblins. “Danu, I’m doomed.” A long sigh escaped the Goblin King’s lips as he covered his face with both hands. Nothing had excited him since…her. Jareth summoned a crystal to his fingertips and stared into its depths, replaying his last moments with the girl who ate the peach and forgot everything. ‘Curse those eyes.’ He growled and grasped the crystal tighter. She had never called. She called to Higgle, the beast, and that stupid fox, but never once to her villain. “Those damned beautiful eyes.” He hurled the crystal against the closest wall. “Ten years of NOTHING!” The goblins paused. The chicken frozen, one leg in the air. The goblin closest to him swallowed loudly, it’s hair still burning.

“Kingy?”

“What?” He snarled.

“Wants to throws us in the bog?” Scratch entreated him with big sympathetic eyes, his hair ablaze. One-Eye threw a large bucket of ale on Scratch, dousing the flame. They all began to cackle raucously. Jareth did not even have the heart to kick them out the window. How things had changed. Even the goblins felt pity for him. He sighed and rose from the throne, slowly walked out of the room, his head hanging low.

“Maybe he ate a bad sock?” Scratch wondered. One-Eye belched.

“No. That was me.” One-Eye replied. Beedle slapped them upside the head.

“Kingy not bog any goblins in months.” Scratch whispered, scratching his chin. “Maybe he sick?”

“He has the Lubsik.” Beedle said rolling his eyes. “Obviously.”

“What’s the Lubsik?” Scratch asked. He began to cry. “Kingy die?”

“Maybe we cans lick it off? He never kick us anymore.” One-Eye asked and sighed longingly. “Miss it.”

“No.” Beedle said. “Fox says only lady can fix.” They all stared after their mercurial king worriedly as his leather boots clipped down the hall to the far window. Jareth stopped at the window before him, his strange eyes staring out at the shifting maze below. The underground sun sat low in the horizon, casting shadows over the walls. His eyes narrowed.

“How you still turn my world, you vicious thing.” He whispered to the cool air. They would be coming soon. Jareth could feel the shifting currents of magic in the air, roiling clouds of dark fog roamed above the sands to the east of the Labyrinth’s borders. Jareth’s pointed ears could pick up the faint strum of a harp and thunderous sound of hooves in the distance. “The Dagda,” he murmured before stepping up to the stone ledge of the window. The dark glittering air drew closer to the castle and Jareth leapt into the dusk, transforming into an owl as he took flight to meet the ancient ones in the hedge garden. As he landed, Jareth became himself again, his crest catching the light against his pale chest in the fading sun. The dark glittering air became more defined as it drew closer to the hedge garden, hundreds of ravens circling wildly as the drew closer. Jareth schooled his trepidation and remained stoic. The goddess of death did not frequently visit his kingdom.

“Grandfather.” He acknowledged the Dagda as the flock of ravens dispersed, bowing his head respectfully. A tall woman emerged next to him from the flock of birds, porcelain skin and eyes the color of night, her hair black silk. “The Morrigan.” He said softly with a cruel smile, keeping her gaze. She did not smile in return. Jareth swallowed, for she was truly powerful and terrible. “To what to I owe this pleasure of a visit to my forsaken corner of the Underground?” The Dagda laughed merrily, his form towering over the hedge garden as he dismounted his horse.

“Does a man need a reason to visit his grandson?” He asked. The Morrigan remained silent and coolly regarded the King of Goblins. Jareth held his grandfather’s gaze.

“There is always a reason." The fae king replied. The Dagda ignored his grandson's response.

"Come wife, let us speak with my progeny inside.”

“I will remain in the garden.” She responded curtly and walked over to the nearest fountain, her ebony gown trailing behind her, clinging to every curve. She gazed into the water thoughtfully.

“Very well.” The Dagda responded lightly. “Come, Jareth, let us walk.” His tone darkened quickly. “We have much to discuss.” Jareth contained his fear quickly, pressing it down, and nodded without responding. The two Sidhe turned to walk into the castle, leaving the Goddess of Death peering deeply into the fountain, swirling her hand around the surface of the water. They did see her lips turn up cruelly as she gazed upon the surface of the fountain.

“You think you can hide her from us, pet.” She continued swirling the water with her hands, the ravens crowing above her. “Ah, but all places hold memories, dear Goblin King.” She laughed darkly as the image of a young mortal with dark hair and viridescent eyes appeared on a stage in the water below. “And this mortal’s memory is dripping out of every corner of your Labyrinth.” She continued to smile; her pointed teeth were exposed in her delight. “Hello, little Champion.” She whispered to the fountain and began to hum as a god and a sidhe walked into the castle.

* * *

“My boy,” The Dagda began. “I haven’t seen you since Samhain a decade past. Where have you been, Jareth? Your father is worried about you.” Jareth snorted. That was unlikely. “He was hoping you would join Manann in the Wyld Hunt this year, but you have not responded to any of our calls.” Turning abruptly towards his grandfather, he laughed spitefully.

“Ah, so therein lies the veritable truth. The real reason my father finally shows an interest in his disgraceful hybrid son.”

“He does not think that of you.”

“True, he does not think of me at all. Is it not the truth?” The Dagda eyed his grandson cautiously.

“What do you think, Jareth?” He knew his stepmother had no love for him. He despised his human nature. It made him weak.

“I think, grandfather, that I would like you to leave this castle and my lands.”

“Your insolence,” the Dagda thundered, his eyes growing red, “will not be tolerated. Now SIT. DOWN.” Jareth could feel the winds of magic behind his knees forcing them to buckle as a chair was drawn up behind. He glared petulantly at his grandfather. The Dagda’s temper softened. “Danu, Jareth. You have been alive for millennia, but act like you are fifty. What has bewitched you?”

‘Not what,’ Jareth mused to himself. ‘But who.’

“I’m not sure what you mean, grandfather. I am as I have always been, ruling over goblins in the forgotten kingdom underground.”

“This kingdom is a gift.”

“A curse.”

“None but you can contain it, can harness its strange and unpredictable magic. It has chosen you. It is a seat of power.”

“That no Sidhe will take. This was forced upon me!” The Dagda shook his head. They had had this argument a thousand times before. It would get him nowhere.

“This is not what I came here to discuss with you. You know the reason I’m here.”

“I haven’t the faintest.”

“Jareth, it has been ten years since your defeat.” The young king did not respond. “The four will begin their search. They have been lenient in giving you the time for which you asked. I have pleaded with the Morrigan, but there is little to be done.”

“No. I will not help you,” Jareth snarled.

“If you do not, there is no telling what may happen to her.”

“Let me rephrase that. I cannot help you. I have no power over the Champion.”

“Jareth, there is an imbalance of power underground. It must be corrected. What was lost must be restored. If you complete this task, you can ascend with the others, shed your mortal half entirely.”

“I. Will. Not. Help. You.” Jareth enunciated.

“You will regret this,” the Dagda thundered, his eye glowing embers once again. His rage was palpable. “Morrigan!” He shouted. An ominous black cloud slithered through the doorway and took the shape of the dark goddess. “We’re leaving. This was a useless venture.”

“Oh no, my love.” The Morrigan giggled, winking at Jareth. “I found what we came for.” Jareth’s arched eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Let us leave on the wind, so we may begin our quest.”

“What do you mean?” Jareth shouted. His only reply was the swirling gust of the Morrigan’s magic as the pair of great gods was swallowed by a swarm of Ravens. “What did you find?” He received no reply as the birds escaped out the window. The gods were gone, and Jareth feared for her. “HIGGLE! I know you’re there. I can smell you.” The cowardly dwarf stepped out from behind his throne.

“It’s HOGGLE. And I warn’t doin’ nothin’. Jist got caught in the wrong spots at the wrong time.”

“Whatever, Hedgewart. Listen. Sarah is in danger.”

“What did you do to her, you rat, I’ll---” he stopped speaking as Jareth grabbed the dwarf by his collar.

“Not from me you knit wit. I need you to do something for me.”

“I won’t hurts the little lady.” The dwarf emphasized. Jareth rolled his eyes.

“Just shut up and lis—” Jareth stopped mid-sentence. It was such a soft wish he almost missed it, a passing thought really. He knew that voice, had heard it a thousand times in his mind. Letting go of Hoggle’s shirt, he summoned a crystal and glimpsed his Champion standing upon a stage, bowing to a small audience. His mouth was suddenly dry. It had been so long. She was taller than he remembered her, a woman more beautiful than in his memories. He exhaled softly, greedily drinking in her image, appreciating the gown she wore which hugged her curves, a feather boa wrapped loosely around her neck. She had small freckles scattered across her nose. Those eyes were still so cruel and innocent, as she smiled to the crowd in front of her. She would never smile for him. “Even after all this time,” Jareth breathed out. “You exhaust me.” He could make out the words, _A Streetcar Named Desire,_ on the playbook. “Hogsbreath.”

“HOGGLE.”

“I’ll be back. First,” he chuckled darkly, “a little fun.”

‘I wish he could see…’ he heard her heart’s deepest desire as he continued to gaze at the girl who ate the peach through his crystal.

“Ah, love, but I can.” he murmured, disappearing from the throne room in a flash, relishing the trepidation in her eyes when he appeared in the crowd as the curtain closed.


	3. The Pooka and The Fairy Glen

**DISCLAIMER:** ALL LABYRINTH CHARACTER'S BELONG TO JIM HENSON. ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ARE MINE. I WRITE THIS THE S'S AND G'S (SARAHS AND GOBLINS). HAPPY READING! CHAPTER FOUR TO BE UP NEXT WEEK. SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA, ALORINDANYA!

# [CHAPTER 3] — THE POOKA AND THE FAIRY GLEN

THREE YEARS LATER ON CNOC MEADHA

“A part of her soul would always be caught underground.” Sarah finished with foreboding. The rain had stopped. They all stepped out of the car and looked up to the three cairns at the top of the hill. She inhaled the sweet earthy air following the rainstorm, a scent that always reminded her of twisting mazes and a certain mercurial king with strange eyes. A sharp, cool breeze ruffled her dark hair as it passed over the winter woods surrounding the hill west of Tuam.

“Ahh dat’s a fairy wind, cold as a wetch’s tit.” Robbie pulled Riona closer to him as he pretended to shiver.

“Something wicked must be crossing our path then.” Riona laughed.

“Well,” Sarah said. “Come on crew. Let’s start up the hill! It’s about 30 minutes to the top.” The foursome began to walk up the gravel trail towards the woods. There were few birds singing in the bare trees, and moss covered the bottoms of the trees and the stone walls scattered throughout the tranquil forest. This was the Ireland that Sarah fell in love with. It could almost make her forget the deeper void in her heart. Fae-touched, she had read somewhere, and grimaced. She had eaten their fruit and danced in a fairy circle with an enigmatic fae in taffeta dress and an illusion of romance. She had determined a part of her would always feel empty after thirteen hours in that land of magic. In these woods though, in this place, the pain was less acute, muted somehow.

When Sarah had left New York, she had bought her ticket on a standby flight. There was no plan. It was on a whim really, but she remembered Irish folklore in her mythology classes as an undergrad, and Galway was the next international flight. She had found Mrs. Lally’s advertisement in the local paper and moved into one of her rooms in the house by the docks. She had lived in Galway for four months, waiting tables at a bar on Quay Street and saving money, before applying to NUI Galway. Somehow, she was accepted into their archeology program. Sarah spent those early days walking through the city, soaking in its life, wandering through farmer’s markets and festivals in Eyre Square and strolling along the Corrib River. She remembered the fear she felt in the beginning, that _he_ would find her. She would wake up in the middle of the night and stare out at the docks, looking for crystals rolling across the creaky oak floors and searching owls in the moonlight. But he never came. She was too frightened to contact Hoggle or Sir Didymus or Ludo. She did not want to put her friends in danger. 

She couldn’t put herself in danger.

As the months passed, her fear became superstition, and she tried to never think of the Labyrinth. ‘I will never let him find me,’ she thought as they made their way through the copse of trees. Robbie and Riona walked ahead of Sarah and a sullen Cedric. She could hear the couple ahead of them, laughing together.

“Cedric, you need to tell her.” She said quietly

“Tell ‘er what?” He grumbled

“You need to tell Riona that you love her.”

“It’s too late, Sar.” He sighed and looked more forlorn than ever. Sarah remembered the first winter break of their program. They had all been out in the craic of Quay Street dancing into the early morning hours. At the last bar, right before closing, they were all laughing at something stupid Cedric had said. Suddenly, Riona had pushed Cedric up against a wall and pressed her lips against his own. Riona had definitely made the first move. Sarah remembered watching them stumble home together from the bar with a smile.

But there was never anything more than that. Riona adamantly swore to protect their friendship at all costs. 

“This will ruin me, Cedric! We can’t ruin what we have as friends.” She told him. Cedric agreed and kept his distance, despairing silently.

“Sarah, you dahn't know what it's like to love someone so unreachable. You could 'ave anyone you want. Boeht Riona, I joehst can't be clear wit me feelings around 'er. It's easier to let 'er see me as some guy who would break 'er 'eart. I dahn't know 'ow to let me guard down. I dahn't know 'ow to tell 'er.”

Sarah stopped walking and turned to Cedric. “Listen, you look up there at them. You are going to let the object of all of your desires walk away because you can’t grow a pair?”

“But…”

“No but! When we get back to town, you’re going to drop me and Robbie off at NUIG, so I can show him around campus. You’re going to tell her how you feel, you coward, or risk losing Riona forever.” They glared at each other. Cedric swallowed.

“Ahkay.” He replied. Sarah squealed.

“Poor Robbie. But fecking finally!” She whispered to him conspiratorially. Robbie smiled at his headstrong friend. They came upon a break in the trees and could see the stony top of the hill surrounded by an expanse of countryside. “Everyone, welcome to Finvarra’s Castle.” It was a large ruin of prehistoric stones atop the hill. “The sidhe used to gather in this emerald wood for Finvarra’s court,” she smiled, the storyteller within coming alive, “or they still do. This mound of quarried limestone lies over Finvarra’s castle. There are rumored to be tombs and several hidden passages.”

“The cairns, such as Finvarra’s castle, are supposed to be passages to the otherworld,” Riona explained.

“The underground…” Sarah breathed out

“Some people call it that,” replied Riona. “Some call it Tir Na Nog or Tir Tairngire. It had been called Avalon, Annwn, and Mag Mell. Some people think these are all separate places, but in Irish mythology they are all part of one Otherworld. Entrances to it are scattered throughout this world, not only here, but hidden mists or going under water or travelling across the sea.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you fahr showin’ me.” Robbie quietly thanked the group. Clouds rolled in the distance, although the sky overhead remained crisp and clear, silent but for the occasional song of a winter bird.

“We should start walking down again,” Sarah said. “It’s supposed to rain in the afternoon again. I don’t want to get caught in it hiking!” The group nodded and began to walk down the gentle hill back through the woods. Before following the group, Sarah turned around to take one last wistful look at the cairn, drawn to its mystery. She gasped as her vision clashed with two luminescent golden eyes at the top of the cairn. She was frozen. There, at the top of the limestone pile, was what appeared to be a large black wolf. She squinted. Or was it a fox? As she stared harder, Sarah couldn’t make out the shape. At one moment it appeared to be a goblin, but it was truly fearsome to behold. It sat unmoving, black fur and long pointed ears, at the top of the cairn and continued to stare at her.

 _Sarah._ She could hear it in her mind. _They have been looking for you._ The voice was neither male or female, but it was powerful and dark and compelling. _I see spaces of darkness._ The voice hissed or whispered. _There is triumph and loss. Longing?_ She couldn’t tell. _Confusion. It’s not over yet._ It was everywhere, but nowhere, surrounding her, but within her mind. _Sarah. Come closer._ _I can sense you are missing something. Some place? There is something holding you back._ Sarah stared warily towards the glowing eyes and towering black form of the creature. _Ah, but you fear him. I can help you with the mysteries of the Goblin King._ Sarah took one step forward towards the creature.

“Sarah!” A loud voice startled her from her trance. Sarah’s pale face whipped around to see Robbie running towards her. He almost looked concerned. “You’re goin’ to fall behind wee colleen!”

“Robbie, did you see that dog up there?” Sarah asked anxiously. She turned back to the cairn, but the fearsome creature was gone. When she turned, back Robbie was staring at her strangely, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time.

“Dog?”

“Yes, well, I think it was a dog. It was large with back fur and golden eyes.” She laughed. “I’d almost think it was a Pooka if I actually believed in that sort of thing.” Robbie said nothing. “I’m just imagining things.” His solemn face changed quickly and his eyes crinkled at the edges.

“You girls gaht yourselves all worked up over folk tales. There be no shapeshifting harbingers of fortune here you silly girl. Comb ahn. Let’s walk down and get some lunch befahre Cedric steals me girl.” Sarah giggled and nodded walking down the path with him. She didn’t see Robbie, his piercing gaze dark, glance back at the creature with golden eyes, before it ran off down the other side of the cairn, leaving a cool breeze in its wake.

The walk down the hill was a mix between amicable chatter and tense silence. Cedric’s jealousy of Robbie was palpable; Riona was oblivious as usual, and Sarah was no longer acting as the buffer. She kept replaying what happened in the fairy glen in her mind. She had been drawn to the magnetic gaze of that awful beast. If Robbie hadn't stopped her, Sarah would have walked to the top of that cairn, raving mad. ‘Girl, you are losing it. Longing?’ Sarah thought. ‘Bullshit. Definitely fear.’ She shook her head, attempting to shake off the vision of the imaginary creature. ‘It wasn’t real. It’s been three years. It’s just the stress of being in this place and all this fairy talk. I escaped.’ She rationalized. Sarah briefly remembered reading about Pooka in one of her undergraduate classes. According to legends, they were deft shapeshifters with golden eyes, sometimes appearing as dogs, goats, goblins or other animals. Pookas do not usually harm the humans they encounter. In most tales, they were terrifying and mischievous, but usually benevolent creatures acting as guardians. There were, however, some tales which painted them as predators that would hunt down and kill their victims, draining their blood. She hoped it was the former over the latter. She hoped it wasn’t real. The group finally stopped for lunch under a tree with red berries about a kilometer before the end of the trail. Sarah sat with her back against the greyish-brown bark of the tree, and looked to the heavens. The sky was still overcast, but the rains held off in the distance.

Riona started handing out peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches. Cedric grabbed his sandwich quickly and bit into it.

“I’ll never understand yer fascination with this chocolatey spread, but ah love it.” He laughed. “Sarah, you’ve been quiet de whole walk down ‘ere. What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Cedric stared at her. “I’m just missing my family.”

“Mmmhm.” He replied, unconvinced. Sarah absently stuck her hand in her pocked and pulled out the bread she took out of the kitchen in the morning in rebellion. She tore off a small hunk and began nibbling without touching her sandwich. ‘Faery kings and pookas be damned.’ She thought. ‘I’m sick of these stupid superstitions. As if bread will protect me from _him._ ’ Robbie looked to Sarah and then to the tree behind her in surprise.

“Hey Sarah.” She looked up at the sound of Robbie’s voice. “Isn’t that a Hawthorn tree you’re sitting under?”

“Oh yeah, Sar! They call those Winter Kings in Galway!” Riona exclaimed. “You can tell by the red berries. I love all this mythology crap.”

‘Shit.’ Sarah thought. ‘I’m done with this outing.’ “Yep. Riona. You’re totally right!” Sarah tried to act excited, but she was beginning to feel like she was being set up. It was all too coincidental. Or she was losing her mind. 

“Another entrance to the otherworld.” She muttered. “Don’t cut them down, or you’ll piss off the fae.”

“We won’t do that then, will we, Sarah Williams?” Robbie asked. Sarah stopped chewing her bread, having lost her appetite. She shoved it back into her pocket.

“Are you guys finished eating?” Sarah asked. “We should probably finish out the hike before it rains?” Sarah dug her fingers into the soft earth beside her underneath the Hawthorn tree. The tip of her pointer finger on her right hand brushed something hard and metal. She pushed her hand deeper into the earth and grasped something circular. “What is this?” She asked.

“Find something?” Riona asked. Sarah pulled her hand from the dirt and looked down at the object she clutched in her fingers. It was a ring. “Oh, that’s beautiful!” Sarah almost dropped it in shock. It was a familiar ring. “Sarah, is that garnet?” It was a ring Sarah hadn’t seen in thirteen years.

“It looks like a garnet.” Cedric said. Sarah peered closer at the ring in disbelief. There was no way in hell it was the same ring. Rings traded for favors in the Labyrinth did not just find their way under hawthorn trees in the middle of Ireland. There was a small inscription inside that Sarah had read a thousand times. _Follow your dreams_. It was Linda’s inscription. It was her ring. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’

“It really does!” Sarah said too excitedly. She shoved the ring onto her right hand hurriedly. “Come on, guys. Let’s go!” The group stared at her in confusion and she raced down the trail.

“Sarah’s losing it.” Riona rolled her eyes. “It’s probably her thesis advisor. He’s always such a pain in the ass.” They slowly began to stand, but Cedric felt it first, one small cold drop of water.

“It’s raining.” Then another.

“It’s starting to come down.” Then the sky opened up and rain began to fall on the barren trees of the Cnoc Meadha woods.

“Run!” Robbied laughed. The foursome raced down the rest of the trailed to Riona’s car in the parking lot, and jumped in, all soaking wet. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Cedric stared at Riona, who pretended to ignore him. Robbie smiled to himself in the back seat next to Sarah, who twirled the ring on her finger nervously, lost in thought. She remembered the ominous words of the Pooka. _It’s not over yet._ She worried over her mother’s garnet ring, which had inexplicably found its way back to her. It felt like the end was coming. _I can sense you are missing something._ She glanced over to Robbie who was looking out the window. Had she told him her last name? She didn’t see the Pooka sitting at the end of the trail unmoving flicking its long bony tail, its aurous eyes watching her through the window as the car drove south to Galway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Labyrinth creatures belong to Jim Henson. Original creations are mind. Don't steal my stuff or I'll bog you.

#  [CHAPTER 4] — OWLS AND ASH

SARAH’S APARTMENT, 3 YEARS PRIOR

The only sound in the stairwell was the echo of Sarah’s worn out sneakers and she raced up four flights of stairs to her studio apartment in Brooklyn. Fumbling with shaking hands, she unlocked the door and closed it swiftly behind her, bolting the lock. Leaning against the door, she let her head fall back against the cold metal and exhaled softly with her eyes closed. ‘Toby,’ she thought desperately. Her eyes snapped open and she dropped her belongings by the door, rummaging through her purse. Feeling her hands close around her cell phone, she quickly pulled it out and dialed her house. It rang four times before anyone answered.

“Hello?” It was Karen who picked up.

“Oh, hi Karen. How are you guys?” She tried to sound conversational as she ran her hair nervously through her hair. Sarah could almost call her stepmother a friend at this point. After almost losing Toby to the underground forever, Sarah’s perspective on the “unfairness of everything” had changed. Although Karen couldn’t help trying to set Sarah up with the young associates at her father’s law firm, they had developed a truce over the years. Karen had even taken Sarah prom dress shopping and on campus tours for college. Robert was working on the opening night of Sarah’s play, and Linda was being…well…Linda, so Toby and Karen were at the premier. In her maturity, Sarah began to realize that Karen was more of a mom that her biological mother ever had been.

“Just finished dinner and cleaning up right now.” She replied Sarah could hear the sink in the background. “How was the closing night of your play?”

“It was okay.”

“And how was the date with Keith?” Karen was being Karen again.

“There won’t be a second one.”

“Oh Sarah, if you ---”

“Karen, I’m really sorry, but is Toby there? I just really wanted to talk with him.” Karen chuckled. Sarah could hear her gentle smile through the phone.

“Let me get him. You know, I’ll never understand you two. That boy is getting so tall. Freshman year of high school and already sprouted 5 inches.” Sarah stopped listening to Karen and felt her heart speed up in her chest. ‘Please let him be okay. What would the Goblin King want with a surly 14-year-old boy at this point?’ She tried to take deep breaths to calm her nerves. ‘He could want anything, Sarah. There are no rules when it comes to Jareth. He doesn’t play fair.’

“Hey lamest older sister.” She could hear the deep tenor of Toby’s adolescent voice over the phone, and she exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Toby! Don’t call me that! I miss you.”

“Whatever. Are you coming home soon? Mom has been in psycho cleaning mode recently.

“I’m going to try. Everything okay over there?”

“Yep. You sound funny. Are you okay?” Toby asked. Sarah tried to still the tremor in her voice.

“You know me. Nerves from closing night. I just wanted to check in with you guys.” She replied.

“All good here. Come home soon. Bring donuts from the city.” Sarah laughed and rolled her eyes. Always with the food with teenage boys.

“Goodnight Toby. Love you.” There was a pause of silence. Sarah could hear his embarrassment through the absence of sound on the other end of the line

“Yeah. Love you too.” He mumbled. _Click._ In the pitch black of her apartment, Sarah tilted her head back with unshed tears. _He’s okay._ She swallowed and closed her eyes in relief. A part of her was conflicted over seeing _him_ again, but the overwhelming fear of what that would mean stopped her from ever calling for him. The last time she had seen him, he appeared gaunt and desperate, with a hand outstretched and piercing mismatched eyes. Sarah had replayed that moment in her mind a thousand times. _Fear me. Love me._ She could see his cruel lips moving in her memory, his offer almost sincere. _I will be your slave._ “Fae tricks,” Sarah murmured to herself. He would have said anything to get what he wanted. Toby was finally safe. Sarah didn’t call for her friends as often as she used to, but they still talked at least twice a month. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she tried to step through the mirror or wished herself away. She desperately wanted to see them in person, but the Underground was not a place for short trips. Sarah had a deep inkling that if she ever went back, she would never return. _But what no one knew was that the Goblin King had fallen in love with the girl and had given her certain powers_. The Goblin King hadn’t made an appearance in a decade, and she was so careful to never wish. She did not wish to run the Labyrinth again. Jareth was a creature of lies and half-promises. She never silently pleaded with the fates to fulfill her dreams during birthday candles or had whimsical desires during the Christmas season. She never consciously called for him, ‘ _except for tonight_. _Stupid Sarah.’_ She could almost convince herself she imagined it, ‘ _except for that fucking owl feather on my costume._ ’

Pushing herself from the door, she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a tall glass from the cupboard, filling it with a cold glass of water. It was when the cool liquid hit her lips that she heard his voice.

“Well, thank goodness Toby is safe.” A cool and crisp accent said lightly as he emerged from the shadows. Sarah almost dropped the glass as the tall monarch materialized in front of her. He was just magnetic mismatched eyes and a lupine grin at first, his body appearing slowly around his features from the darkness. There was no flash of lightning or bursts of glitter or windows opening from a summer storm this time. There were no wished away baby brothers or twisted fairy tales. There was just a creature of nightmares and dreams and a mortal woman in a small kitchen. He was dressed in tall leather boots and tight grey britches, his fair hair falling around his shoulders, white poet’s shirt open to the pale expanse of his chest. She swallowed and said nothing, setting her class on the counter. He raised his arched eyebrows in appraisal of her. He was more beautiful and strange than she remembered. More dangerous.

“You.” She said.

“Yes,” he responded in a clipped foreign accent, his sensual smile growing wider. “Me.” She was overwhelmed by the sight of him. “Hello Sarah.” He canted his head as his smile turned malicious. “So good to see you.” He whispered darkly through gritted teeth. She noted his fists were clenched at his sides, hands encased in black leather gloves. “I thought I’d pop by to say hello, as you were kind enough to call for me.”

“I didn’t.” She rebutted, drawing herself up as much as possible. “What do you want?” She whispered quietly. She cleared her throat and found her courage. “I won.” She said proudly. “You can’t have him.” Jareth laughed darkly.

“Ah ah,” he tsked at her, pouting slightly. “Don’t lie to me, Sarah. I don’t want your brother.” Jareth continued to clench his fists at his sides. He circled her momentarily. She never let him out of her site. There was no way he could have anticipated the lack of control he would feel at seeing her again, his obstinate champion. Her cheeks were delightfully flushed in anger or surprise. He didn’t care which. Her silken hair was longer, he mused, her lips more full, ready to be ravaged. He wanted to reach out and shake her or hold her. He wanted revenge. He wanted to fuck her. His carefully schooled expression thinly veiled his rage and desire as he came around to face her again. Her green eyes still defied and bewitched him. Damn her. He had waited a decade. Jareth felt he deserved more than her distrust. “Little Sarah, all grown up, but still so misguided. It’s been ten years, little girl. Happiest anniversary, by the way. Don’t you think I would have taken him by now if I wanted him?” He said angrily. Her lip trembled.

“What do you want then, Goblin King?” His eyes flashed dangerously.

“I think the question is, little girl, what do you want? You called me here.” He took a step towards her, his heavy leather boot echoing on the tiles of her kitchen floor. Sarah backed up.

“That was a mistake. I didn’t mean it.”

“ _I didn’t mean it_.” He mimicked. “Danu, don’t act like a child. We are both very much…” His eyes trailed over her curves in her short black dress and black heels. “Adults here, Sarah.” He finished darkly. “And how you have grown. You called me for the first time in ten years. Tell me what you desire.”

“I desire nothing from you. It was a mistake.”

“Don’t,” he said with a dangerous smile and another step closer. “Lie to me, precious thing.”

“I desire for you to leave. You have no power over me.” Sarah jumped as Jareth slammed his fist against the wall over her head. Sarah realized grimly that he had succeeded in backing her up against a corner. She had no escape. _Fuck_. He was towering over her, all lean muscle and heat, with a strange haunted expression on his face, his breath coming out in short ragged pants, feather-soft blond hair falling over his cheeks, his face a dark crimson.

“I _never_ want to hear those words from you again.” Jareth growled tightly. He was a coiled wire, ready to snap. Sarah attempted to keep her breathing even and looked up at him, her startling emerald eyes locked with pupils so dilated, his eyes were almost black. Her heels gave her maybe an extra two inches of height. His form still dwarfed her small frame, but she refused to show her trepidation. Sarah swallowed as she cooly stared up to him, her throat bobbing. “You, my lovely nemesis,” he said softly as he inhaled deeply and attempted to gain control, “are a terrible liar.” He uncurled his fist against the wall and slowly trailed a hand reverently along her chocolate tresses and down the side of her arm. She shivered at the contact from the cool leather but did not break his gaze.

“Don’t touch me, Jareth,” She ground out. The Goblin King was not a patient creature. It was the first time he heard her say his name, and he experienced a surge of primal male satisfaction. She _had_ remembered him. He had spent so many years wondering. She had never once pulled him to her dreams, had never sent out an errant wish. Her resistance to him had the opposite effect of what she intended. He would touch her if he damn well pleased. Jareth grinned wickedly, his pointed teeth flashing, and before Sarah could say another word, Jareth grabbed her shoulders roughly before he wrapped both arms around her and crushed her to the length. Her hands were pressed against the cool skin of his lightly muscled chest, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She could feel the sharp edges of his crest pressing into her breasts and his soft lips smiling against her neck. He was everywhere. Everything about him was overpowering. She couldn’t stop herself from inhaling deeply. Burnt cedar and sage. Summer storms. Cool earth. Magic. It was intoxicating. It was dangerous.

“Ten years is a long time.” He whispered harshly into the shell of her ear. “Didn’t you miss me?” Jareth trailed his lips against the skin just under her jaw and inhaled deeply. _Jasmine and hawthorn. I could keep her forever._ She knew she should push him away immediately. Something other than his crest was pressing into her stomach, and she flushed hotly. Sarah could feel something pool deep in her abdomen and closed her eyes briefly, letting him hold her momentarily. She couldn’t think clearly. Fae were seductive tricksters. This was mere child’s play to him. Manipulation. This could not happen. Gaining her senses, Sarah began to struggle against his iron grip.

“Let me go!” She shouted. She pushed against his solid chest with all her strength. Jareth reluctantly stepped back and released her, still grinning wickedly, amused at her expense. He knew he had rattled her. She felt suddenly bereft of his presence.

“No more games.” He said. “I am here for a purpose. Although you called for me, we have no time for this.” She said nothing. Jareth cleared his throat. “Sarah, you are in great danger. You need to listen to me carefully. There are those in my realm who wish to harm you. We don’t have much time.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You can reject this all you want, but if you care for your family, you will listen. Those who wish to harm you will stop at nothing.” Her mind went immediately to Toby.

“I’m listening.”

“Good. Suffice to say, your freedom on this plane of existence is coming to an end. You must be hidden, and I can protect you in my kingdom.”

“I don’t trust you.” Jareth rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have time for your misgivings, love. I am your only option at this point. Higgle is preparing for your safe return to the Underground.”

“WHAT? I’m not going back there.”

“If you value your precious mortal life, you will come with me. Meet me at the obelisk by the lake near your home in three hours’ time. There is a portal there strong enough for me to transport you back with me. Do everything exactly as the dwarf says. There is much to be done. If you do not do as I say, Sarah, I will find you.” Jareth said darkly as he began to fade from sight.

“Wait! Jareth. I don’t understand.” He was gone. “I am NOT going back there.” She yelled to the empty air in her apartment, through angry unshed tears. “What the hell?” She stomped to her bedroom petulantly and sat on the bed with unseeing eyes for several minutes, attempting to process everything that just occurred. She began to pack a bag with important belongings, including a small red book with worn leather, unsure of her destination. The mirror in front of her began to glow, emitting a soft blue light.

“Hoggle?” she questioned

J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S

Jareth transported himself back to his kingdom, landing in a desolate corner of the labyrinth. He was there for a specific purpose. The old man with the bird hat was snoring fast asleep several feet in front of him.

“Well, well.” The hat said. “Wake up, you nitwit!” he shouted to the wiseman. “What do we have here?” The hat questioned the Goblin King.

“The box,” Jareth commanded briskly. “If you please.”

“And how will you pay the price?” The old man asked sleepily, yawning slowly through his teeth. Jareth rolled his eyes.

“A day with the Dryads,” was Jareth’s deadpan reply. The wiseman and the hat immediately perked up.

“Oh! A fair trade indeed! Here you are you majesty.” Jareth knew the wiseman was simply a pervert. He was so easy to bribe. He grabbed the box from him and transported them both to the ancient woods north of the Labyrinth. The wiseman tottered off clumsily after two Dryads as they winked at him, giggling and gracefully running through the trees. Jareth rolled his eyes again. _So predictable_. He set the box made of Hawthorn on the ground. The only thing it contained was Sarah’s garnet ring, one of the only pieces of evidence that her presence had once graced his kingdom. He placed the box on the ground and murmured a spell in the old tongue. Soft waves of blue light emitted from his fingertips and the box burst into flame on the ground before him, quickly burning to ash. Jareth delicately plucked the small gold ring from the ash.

“Let what is seen be unseen. Bury this from the eyes of those who would harm her.” The ring quickly disappeared from his fingertips, sent far off to the mortal world under a hawthorn tree in the old lands. Jareth knew Morrigan would never find it there of her own volition. He collected the ash in a small glass bottle and quickly transported himself to the apothecary in his castle. He rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out a small bottle of lavender oil and poured the ash in, quickly mixing it together.

“HIGGLE.” He yelled.

“Aye your majesty.” Hoggle ran into the room quickly.

“There is no time for delay. You must bring this to Sarah immediately.” Hoggle stared at the loathsome floral scented mixture in the vial with fear.

“Yer majesty, what is it? Will it hurt her?”

“I’m not going to hurt Sarah. This is to protect from the Morrigan and the Dagda.” Hoggle’s eyes grew as wide as saucers.

“What do they wants with the little lady?”

“I’m not certain.” Jareth said quietly with foreboding. “The Morrigan’s magic is dark and ancient. She is well practiced in the art of blood sacrifice. I have heard rumors of places of emptiness appearing on the far reaches of our world. The Dryads in the north woods are beginning to grow thin and pale. The Four believe Sarah is to blame. ”

“What?” Hoggle asked. “She hasn’t done anything.”

“They believe it is an imbalance of power. Losing both Toby and Sarah to the mortal realm took a toll not only on my kingdom, but on other kingdoms as well. There are echoes throughout the underground. Her kingdom is as great, and whatever power she gained here; she took with her to the mortal realm.” Jareth looked defeated. “The four gave me ten years’ time to retrieve her to restore the balance here, but I have no power over the Labyrinth’s champion. They do not know of the young Tobias, thankfully, and I intend to keep it that way. I was trying to keep her hidden from them, but I fear they will find Sarah and her family if we do not act quickly.”

“What do I do yer majesty?”

“Give this oil to Sarah. It is imbued with strong magic. She must rub all of the oil into her skin. It contains a binding spell and will keep her safe. She will be hidden from everyone, including you,” He handed the oil to Hoggle carefully, “and including me.” Jareth looked out the window of the apothecary to the Labyrinth below. She may hate him for it, but she would be safe with him here. “I cannot force Sarah to come with me, but I can protect her in my castle in the middle of the Labyrinth from those who wish to harm her. She is to meet me at the Obelisk in the park in two hour’s time. Remind her.” He looked at Hoggle pointedly. “Do not betray me, Hedgewart. The price will be steep, and might I remind you that the Bog still wants for a prince. Sarah’s life is in peril. Do not muck this up.” Hoggle grabbed the vile and grumbled.

“That rat. Still don’t trust him.” He muttered as he lumbered towards the mirror. He touched his hands to the glass and it began to emit a soft azure glow.

“Hoggle?” he heard Sarah’s voice from the other side.

“Sarah, are ye’ alright?” She slowly formed in front of him

“Oh, Hoggle. It’s terrible. He found me.” She said angrily through tears. She left out the part where she called him. “What will I do?”

“There’s no time.” He said hurriedly. “Take this.” Hoggle shoved his hand through the mirror. He quickly explained to her the purpose of the oil. She looked skeptical.

“I have to rub _all_ of this into my skin?”

“Yes. Sarah, it will hide you from our world, but you will be safe.”

“He wants me to come back with him, Hoggle. I’m terrified.” She whispered. “I can’t go back with him.” Hoggle looked crestfallen. “Of course, I want to be with all of you, Hoggle. But I don’t trust your king.”

“I don’t trust him either, Sarah.” Hoggle groaned. “I’ll be dead for this.” Hoggle rubbed his face from his hand. “You need to run, Sarah. Run far, far away from your land. With this potion you will be hidden from all of us. I won’t be able to find you, but neither will those who with to harm ye’, including that rat bastard, Jareth.” Sarah bit her lip. “I’ll stall him. Act quickly.”

“I love you, Hoggle.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We’ll see each other again.” She said assuredly. They both looked at each other, Hoggle knowing he would never see his friend again. It was for the best. It was the most selfless thing he had ever done.

“Go, Sarah. I’ll miss ye’.” She nodded and disappeared from view. Hoggle could not have predicted what was to come in the months and years that followed. Although he had been warned, he had no way of knowing the consequences of his protective act. In saving one mortal woman, he had doomed his kind. One hour later, Sarah was in line with ash rubbed desperately into her skin waiting for a standby flight at JFK International. Her family wouldn’t understand. She had left everything in her apartment, but what choice did she have? She looked down at her one way ticket to Galway and tried to forget mismatched eyes and strong arms, tried to forget the velvet of his lips on her neck. An immortal king stood despondently by a lake in Connecticut, waiting for a woman who never arrived, twice rejected. His leather encased fist clenched briefly at his side, knowing he would only ever be a villain to her. He could still feel her trembling form in his arms, her silken hair against his cheek, her soft skin on his lips. The fae grimaced. She was late. Jareth summoned a crystal, which only revealed smoke and ash. 

Sarah Williams was as cruel as ever. She was lost to him. 

The Underground would fall to pieces for the girl who ate the peach and forgot everything a second time, but at least she would be safe. As the sun fell beneath the horizon over the lake, casting shadows in the golden light over the park, an owl flew off into oblivion, his desolate cry echoing in the dusk of a rose-colored sky.


	5. The Waters of the Lethe

**Disclaimer:** The tale is mine but all of Jim Henson’s character and Labyrinth are not. Sorry Jareth <3.

  


#  **[CHAPTER 5]**

#  **THE WATERS OF THE LETHE**

THE MORRIGAN’S LAIR, PRESENT DAY

The goddess of death and war murmured ancient words over the cooking pit on the mound. Her plane was separate from the Goblin King’s wretched kingdom. She held her hand out to one of her ravens and called to it softly, her blue eyes flashing dangerously.

“Not much time now,” She whispered. “Come, my love.” The raven flew to her arm. In a violent gesture, the Morrigan grabbed the raven by the neck and threw it into the blaze over the cooking pit. “A sacrifice for another day. Your life was not in vain, my dearest.” A tear slipped from the icy depths of her eyes as the raven cried out in pain, its life sleeping away in the crackling fire. She murmured a binding spell. “I beseech the river to give this life to the earth. Help us.” The flames gathered brightly around the burning ebony feathers of the raven and suddenly extinguished, leaving smoking embers in its place. “It is done.”

“Ah, my dear wife.” The Dagda said coolly as he emerged from the shadows. “Another blood sacrifice?”

“You know it is the only way.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know how else to slow down the river. The Underworld is spilling into the Underground. Even Arawan is at a loss. He has built great damns in his kingdom, but the waters still flow into our lands.” 

The Dagda’s great brow furrowed. “Yes,” he replied grimly. “The waters of the Lethe have not abated for these past three years. If the God of death is at loss, we have little hope left. Soon we will all forget who we were.” 

The Morrigan nodded solemnly and looked to the winds as they picked up the ashes from the embers, scattering to the skies.

There was an owl circling in the glittering sky overhead as the ashes drifted to the underground. The Morrigan looked up to the sky, her obsidian eyes pensive. She still did not trust the Goblin King, although she relied heavily upon his services for the time being. The past three years had been a constant battle for the Dagda and the Morrigan. Jareth’s assistance had been indispensable. As the Good God, the Dagda was trying his best to subdue the effects of famine and drought on the lands. Due to its great power, the Elven kingdom was able to keep the waters of the Lethe at bay. The other kingdoms of the Underground were not so lucky. Arawan, God of the dead, first noticed that the tides of his river had abated somewhat in the underworld shortly after the Morrigan and Dagda’s confrontation with Jareth three years ago. It started in the oceans of the Merrows, sea creatures with human legs and webbed feet. They called it the Forgetting. There were cracks in the seafloor near where the Merrows did the majority of their hunting. It was on a peace-keeping mission that Jareth discovered their collective lost memory. He sent the errant fox, Didymus, with his trusty canine, but upon reaching their kingdom, Didymus could not find a single Merrow. There was but a large school of fish with glittering cerulean eyes. Jareth flew to the sight at once and entered their underground sea castle to find the king languishing on the throne.

“I am the last,” the Merrow king explained. “The rivers of the Underworld have come to our kingdom, high Prince Jareth. Please do not forget us, as we forget ourselves.” And with his final words, the sea king became perhaps what he had always been, a fish with piercing blue eyes, which swam away quickly to the currents. The rivers of the Lethe were meant for the dead, for the shades of the living who came to Arawan’s world to forget their earthly troubles. They were not meant for the creatures of the Underground.

Although his powers were great, there was nothing Jareth could find to stop the tides. He had only been able to use his powers to locate the new well springs of the Lethe to help evacuate creatures from the risk of losing themselves. The inhabitants of the Underground began to fear drinking the waters, fearful as they should be, the Lethe had contaminated them. The dragons had disappeared. The gnome kingdom had fallen. The dryads were dying in the forests north of the Labyrinth. The great beast, Ludo, had been surprisingly helpful in calling large boulders to cover new well springs surrounding his lands. Only the humans in the farming lands south of the Labyrinth seemed to be immune. The Dagda’s cauldron was infinitely bountiful. He was constantly travelling the lands curbing famine. The Morrigan’s blood sacrifices of her precious birds would only slow the currents of the river. The elven kingdom had set up a boundary, but their court wizard was unsure of how long he could keep the tides at bay. Jareth had one of the most impressive library collections in the underground, second only to the elves, but he could find nothing in his books. None of them could stop it. They could not go on like this for eternity. Only the Morrigan had a guess as to what could stop the waters of the Lethe.

“Goblin King.” She sneered or smiled as the owl circled down to the dry grass below. “To what do we owe this _great_ honor.” Jareth became himself emerging from a dark glittering cloud, appearing in his full goblin regalia, dark kohl lining his mismatched eyes, his pale hair whipping back in the winds.

“The dwarf told me you have a message for me.” He turned to the god behind the Morrigan. “Grandfather.” The Dagda inclined his head to the monarch. Things had been strained between them since Sarah’s disappearance. Jareth had lost some of his luster, his mismatched eyes bloodshot, the areas under them dark and sunken.

“Are you sleeping as of late, grandson?” He asked.

“I can sleep when this is all over.” The monarch growled.

“Guilt, I presume.” The Morrigan murmured cruelly.

“Shut up, you harpy! What is it you want with me, out with it?” Jareth yelled.

“As I have always wanted, my dear, prosperity in the Underground for you and all others, as well as peace, which you seem determined to stop from happening.”

“I will not help you find the Champion for a blood sacrifice, Morrigan.” 

Her ruby lips formed a thin stern line. Jareth would never tell them Sarah’s name.

“We have _NO_ choice, my young king.” The Morrigan argued.

“I don’t know where she is, and her blood will not heal the Underground.”

“I have seen it in a vision, Jareth.” She urged. “Her blood will end the tides of the Lethe.” 

Jareth said nothing. The Morrigan could trick, manipulate and omit, but she could never lie, as was the way of the old gods.

“My dear boy,” The Dagda offered sympathetically. “If there was any other way, you know I would try it.” 

Jareth looked to the burnt sienna sky despondently. “She has damned us all, and to no fault of her own. I should have looked for her sooner.” He whispered. “No matter.”

“What is done is done. What is said is said.” The Dagda responded. 

Jareth smirked sardonically at the familiar turn of phrase. 

“Jareth, you should go see you father before this is all over.”

“Aye. I know.” He murmured “My stepmother keeps me away. Morrigan,” He said darkly. “Would that I could help you save the Underground. I have only been able to quell the springs by evacuating the areas. I swear on my mortal mother’s grave that I do not know where the Labyrinth’s champion is hiding. I have spent three years looking for her.”

“Then we are lost.” The Morrigan responded. “I have sent the Puck to the above as a last resort, although he is distracted rather easily. Your father’s Pooka has been on the hunt as well.”

“If you find her, let me speak with her first.” Jareth entreated

“I cannot promise that, my young king. The Four will not allow it as they are privy to my vision.” 

Jareth said nothing to Morrigan’s reply. Before his people were forced to flee the mortal realm by the Milesians, the Tuatha De Dannaan came from four mythical cities to settle Ireland: Falias, Gorias, Finias, and Murias. His people were gifted with four magic talismans, one from each city. They learned their many skills of science, poetry, art, and magic from four druids from each city: Morfesa from Falias, Esras from Gorias, Semias from Murias, and Uiscias from Findias. The very cauldron that Dagda carried with him, saving the people of the Sidhe from famine, was one of the coveted talismans. The four would only speak to the ancient gods or children of Danu, like Morrigan or the Dagda. They were keepers of the Underground and the gates between worlds. They had commanded Jareth bring the Labyrinth’s champion to the Underground for a decade. She had never called to him in those ten years except for his last interlude with her, but in the minds of the Four, Jareth had defied them, and their word was law.

“If you had only done as the Four asked in the beginning and brought the girl back to the Underground.”

“I could not,” He defended himself. “As I have told you before.”

“There is always a way, Jareth, and you had ten years to find it! The Underground will fall because of your infatuation with a mortal.” Morrigan sneered

“If you were not a god, I would kill you Morrigan.” He snarled. She smiled prettily at the Goblin King’s fury. Jareth could not explain to himself why he never sought out a loophole to Sarah, or why he fought so hard to protect her identity, ungrateful as she was. “Do not call for me from this moment unless you find her. I will not come to you again.”

The Morrigan laughed. “Oh Jareth, _so predictable._ You always come when called.” 

The Goblin King narrowed his eyes in hatred. In a furious cloud of shimmering ash and glitter he disappeared from the moor. He stepped softly onto the western shore of his lands surveying the sea between his world and the mortal realm. The turquoise waves of his kingdom were mixed with the icy blue waters of the Lethe. It would almost be beautiful if it wasn’t so deadly. Jareth twisted his hand around as he had every day since that day, that day she abandoned him at the park by her parents’ home. He had only wanted to provide her with safety. She was such an ungrateful woman. Jareth had difficulty grasping his emotions where Sarah Williams was concerned. As a Fae, he was not used to anything but the cold calculating games of logic and the superfluous desires of magic. He had seen something in her, a girl though she was at fifteen, that enraptured him.

Fae didn’t love easily, and Sarah Williams was no exception to this rule, but he knew he desired her. He wanted to possess her, to keep her, to consume her. The peach, he thought, was the trick, but she remembered everything and crushed his crystal illusion. He never thought she would make it to his castle. He never thought he would be begging her to stay at the end.

In the beginning, when she had first rejected him, it was an emptiness so desolate, he swore to close himself off to her forever. The desolation grew into a rage at her acceptance of a mundane life without magic. He felt sure she would call him one day, but the month stretched onto years into a decade. When she finally called to him, he admitted to himself, he lost control, unprepared for the torrent of emotions she released. He thought he hated her. He shuddered, thinking of her soft form melting in his arms, her breasts pressed against his open shirt. He remembered thinking how beautiful she had become, and how forlorn he was that he had missed so much time with her. Jareth was sure he heard her moan when he held her to his chest, and it undid him. For these moments of ecstasy with her, he had suffered years of torture. The rage was there still, under the surface.

“Perhaps I hate you still, Precious.” He murmured, peering into his crystal, expecting the same smoke and ash obscuring his magic. 

An image began to emerge, and Jareth’s breath caught in his throat as Sarah Williams emerged from a vehicle into an overcast sky. Her hair was longer. Her smile was vibrant. He swallowed. A man stepped out of the other side of the car, and Jareth felt a vicious jealousy overtake him. He almost crushed the crystal he was gripping it so tightly. Jareth’s face immediately lost color, turning a ghostly white when he saw the face of the man step out of the car. Fear gripped his entire being.

“Come on, Robbie!” Sarah shouted joyfully. “Let me show you campus while Riona and Cedric park the car.” She winked at the driver of the car before linking arms with Robbie and walking off towards campus.

“No, Sarah!” He yelled desperately at the crystal before transforming and taking flight over the vast and terrible sea to her world. She should be hidden. His mind was racing. Why could he see her? Why was she with _him?_ He sped through the air, hoping he reached her before the Morrigan was alerted of her presence. Her exact location was shielded from him by some other magic, but Jareth reached out through his connection to the Labyrinth, his connection to _her_ , and pulled, drawing himself to her realm, to as close to her has he could manage. Jareth passed through the crossing at the mists and emerged in the sky over Salthill Promenade in Galway Ireland. From his vantage, he soared over the winter wind currents of the city and spotted what he prayed to Danu was the dark-haired beautiful and very foolish Sarah Williams, walking arm and arm with _that creature_ towards the River Corrib behind campus. He needed to stop them before they arrived at the water’s edge. 

The Morrigan drew her powers of war and fate from the rivers. 

Jareth sped through the crisp winter evening air after the rains, landing swiftly beside the river. Sarah stumbled back from the explosion of earth and wind that followed his transformation. He stood before her, looking just as she remembered. This time, he was covered in black leather from head to toe, his face set in a stern frown.

“Impossible!” She yelled fearfully, but Jareth wasn’t looking at her. “I escaped you!” He ignored her outburst and turned to Robbie.

“Puck, step away from the mortal.” He commanded.

“Oh, well met Goblin King.” The man laughed. “This is truly a most interesting day. I’ve been having a bit o’ fun in the old lands of the Tuatha de Danaan, and I believe I have found your Champion.” 

Sarah recoiled from the man next to her. “Robbie?” Her emerald eyes implored him. “Please tell me you don’t know him.”

“Ah, my dear.” He replied, becoming what he always was. She blinked rapidly, desperately trying to clear her eyes, but where there had been a handsome man now stood a creature, its chest bare, with Robbie’s face, but the legs of a goat. “I am an honest, Puck, and I cannot lie.” He bowed quickly. “I apologize fer the bit o’ trickery. My name is Robin Goodfellow, or ‘Puck’ as my friends call me,” he glanced at the Goblin King. “Or enemies. At your service.”

“Fuck me.” Sarah said. Puck’s eyebrows shot up. Jareth snarled. Sarah closed her eyes briefly and sighed. “Not like that you idiots.” Sarah turned apprehensively to the Goblin King. He was staring at her. “How did you find me?” She asked him softly.

“You found your mother’s ring. I buried it here, to hide you.” He covered his face with his hands. “But Danu, Sarah, you keep getting into trouble.” He held a gloved hand out to her. “Come with me, this time. I did not lie to you before. You are in great danger.” Sarah could tell the Fae was restraining himself. She watched his lips as he spoke slowly and carefully, as if he was afraid she would run from him. She remembered the last time he said she was in danger, towering above her, all muscle and heat. Sarah shook her head slowly. Enough of that. She was in danger from him.

“I don’t trust you.” She spat.

“That is wise,” He acquiesced. “But we don’t have time for that. Your life is in danger. Now that the seal on your cloaking spell is broken, anyone can find you, including…” There was a crack of thunder in the distance. Sarah jumped, unconsciously, much closer to the Goblin King. He wrapped his gloved hand around her upper arm.

“Let me go! You just want revenge, and this is your sick, twisted way of getting it. I won. You can’t have Toby. You can’t have me.”

“Sarah!” He urged. She continued to push him away. “Sarah,” he said again quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

She stopped and looked up at him. Their eyes locked briefly, and his beautiful otherworldly gaze bore into her own. She licked her lips and she inhaled quickly. She couldn’t speak. 

“Let me help you.” Jareth spoke resolutely. “Come back to the Labyrinth where I can protect you from the Morrigan who would wish you harm. I certainly don’t want you dead. I can explain more to you there.” He almost sounded sincere, but his expression was so guarded. It was like gazing into stone. He _hadn’_ t denied that he wanted revenge. Sarah started to come to her senses, limbs slowly began to work again. She had been about to place her hand in his. He was such a manipulative bastard. His grip had loosened slightly in beseeching her, and she tore away from him. Running back towards Robbie or Robin Goodfellow or Puck, whatever he was, was certainly better than the mesmerizing man in front of her.

“You foolish girl!” He yelled “You’re going to get yourself killed.” In the next crash of thunder, a hundred dark birds descended to the river below, and from its depths arose the goddess dressed in the tumultuous waters.

“Ah, young Champion.” The Morrigan exclaimed. “I have found you at last.” She smiled, but Sarah thought her smile was reminiscent of a wolf. She cowered into the body of Puck, who was standing directly behind her. “Puck, I thank you for finding her for me.” Sarah whipped around to look at Puck, shocked. She didn’t know who to trust. Jareth stood back from her, helpless. He needed to keep the Morrigan in his sight. He wasn’t sure what she would do, or how she would strike.

“Sarah, come back to me.” Jareth ground out. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Now, Sarah Williams,” Puck whispered sharply into her ear. “It is quite obvious you should trust none of us. I will admit I sold you out, but this is _so_ much more _interesting_ now that Jareth is involved. Go with one of them and you will surely die.” He chuckled darkly as a frigid chill ran up her spine. “But come with me, and you won’t die…yet. You are more powerful than you know, young mortal.” He paused. “Also, I will keep your young _Tobias_ safe. Neither of those creatures,” he looked up, indicating he was speaking of Morrigan and Jareth, “have made you that promise, I believe.”

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise at the mention of her brother. Puck held an outstretched hand.

“Please don’t hurt him.” She pleaded. “Toby has nothing to do with this.”

“So you say,” Puck replied nonchalantly. He extended his hand to her. “You must say the words my dear, that you wish for me to take you away.” 

Sarah looked back towards the terrible river goddess looming overhead.

“Sarah, don’t take his hand.” Jareth yelled. “Don’t trust him. He will betray you.” He knew deep down how this would end. All she kept doing was running away. The stubborn girl wouldn’t even listen to two words out of his mouth, even if it was to protect her precious mortal hide.

“I’d rather go with the devil I don’t know, Jareth.” He groaned in aggravation at her obstinance. 

“You’re a fool, Sarah Williams. Mark me,” He snarled. “I will find you.” 

She turned to Puck quickly. “I wish for you to take me away.” She said soberly to the half-beast. He grinned with pleasure as Sarah placed her hand in his and they disappeared into the cool evening in a swirl of dead leaves and dirt, the river goddess cursing the heavens and the Goblin King screaming her name into the wind.


	6. The Northern Woods

# [Chapter 6] — The Northern Woods

**Disclaimer:** The tale is mine but all of Jim Henson’s character and Labyrinth are not, unfortunately. Please enjoy the story!

When the world stopped spinning, Sarah inhaled deeply, taking in the earth and pine. She opened her eyes to a strange night sky. She didn’t even need to ask Puck where they were. The smell of the earth was slightly other. There was a faint crackle of energy, of magic in the air.

She was back in the Underground. Puck stepped out of the darkness.

“Where are we?” Sarah asked softly. The breeze was gentle, and two moons hung low in the sky, their pallor casting shadows over the silent forest.

“In the northern woods of Goblin King’s lands. His Labyrinth is to the south of our location. They are home to me and my kind, and the Dryads. His lands are closest to your world, and he will have less suspicion that I am keeping you right under his nose.”

“As long as he doesn’t find me. The Dryads?” She questioned. A very small part of Sarah was thrilled at the possibility of seeing Dryads, which she had only read about, having encountered none on her last trip to the Underground.

“Jareth will be looking for you.” Puck muttered darkly, ignoring her inquiry. “We’ll have to do something about that.” Sarah looked at him quizzically as he reached a hand forward and grasped a strand of her hair. He pulled, hard.

“Ouch!” She yelped. “What---” Puck put a finger to his lips. He took a small shimmering branch from the ground and wrapped her hair quickly around the branch. He gently laid it down on the ground beneath them and murmured a few words in a strange language. The wood burst into flames and became nothing but ash in a few short moments. Puck gathered the ashes in his palms.

“Close yer eyes, Champion.” Sarah did as he bid her with hesitation. He blew the ashes into her face and hair. She felt his warm hands run down her shoulders and her arms to her fingertips. “Let what is seen be unseen.” He murmured. She opened her eyes to his soft brown ones. “That should buy us some time.”

“I don’t know why you’re helping me.” Sarah was careful not to thank the trickster in front of her, for she had learned that gratitude would mean a debt she would be unwilling to pay.

“Perhaps you never will.” He answered cryptically with a smile. Sarah rolled her eyes at the mythical creature.

“What about Toby?”

“Ah, yes. The young heir.” He chuckled darkly. “The Morrigan doesn’t know about him yet, but I dare say should she find him, that would be most grave indeed.”

“How do I protect him?”

“There are two options, but you won’t like them.”

“And they are?”

“The first option is to bring your brother here under my protection –”

“Absolutely not.” Sarah interjected vehemently. “What is the other way?”

“Erase his memory of you.” Sarah took a deep breath, distraught at the thought of her brother forgetting about her. “Obviously, this would mean erasing your memory from the collective human existence, including your friends and parents. I can do this. I am unsure of its permanence.”

“What?”

  
“This is the only way I know how. The choice is yours.” Sarah worried at her bottom lip in indecision.

“I can’t do either.”

“Then she will find him. Or Jareth will.” Sarah was used to making rash decisions without thinking of the consequences, but there was really only one choice to be made. She would never willingly bring her brother to the Underground, after everything she went through to save him from becoming one of them forever.

“Make them forget about me, Puck.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t have any other choice.” She whispered. Robin eyed her carefully and nodded grimly.

“There is no going back on this. Do not move from this spot. I will return shortly.” He responded, blinking out of existence. In his absence, Sarah succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion of the day’s events in the silence of the surrounding woods. She quickly sat down on the soft earth and pine needles, leaning into the trunk of the Oak tree directly behind her. She closed her eyes briefly in sorrow. _Just for minute,_ which was her last thought before falling into a deep slumber in the woods north of the Labyrinth.

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The three figures stood by the river where Sarah and Puck disappeared. Jareth was seething.

“That little idiot.” He raged. “What was she thinking?”

“We were so close.” Morrigan lamented.

“And what exactly were you planning on doing with her, Morrigan?” The Morrigan was silent. “Grandfather?” The Dagda pointedly avoided eye contact with his grandson.

“Jareth, let us reconvene on Cnoc Meadha.” The Dagda responded. “Your father is missing you, and we can discuss further there.” Without waiting for a response, the god clapped his hands in front of them, and the trio appeared on the hill of Cnoc Meadha. The earth opened in front of the cairn before them, a wide tunnel leading to the castle beneath the stones. The stepped into the path between worlds, a soft candle lit glow in the distance, leading them to Finvarra’s castle. A tall handsome figure stood at the end of their path, a beaming smile on his face.

“My father and my son together at last!” Finvarra laughed. The king of the Tuatha De Danaan stood about six feet in height, similar in stature to his son. He had a handsome face with long raven hair, his age only belied by the creases at the corners of his deep brown eyes. He smiled kindly at the threesome entering his castle, his jovial grin mirroring that of the Dagda. A tall, elegant woman with brilliant golden hair and cold, cerulean cruel eyes stood next to Finvarra, a glittering silver ringlet overlying the crown of her head. “Oh, Jareth, you have been away too long. The courts keep asking me when you’ll return, and here you are at last.” Finvarra spoke.

“Father.” Jareth nodded stiffly. “This will likely be short trip.” Finvarra frowned. Jareth turned to the woman before him. “Step-mother.” He nodded in acknowledgement. “I hope you are well.”

“I am.” Una responded coolly. “I hope you are here to fix this mess.” She stated evenly, her full lips set in a grim expression. Jareth said nothing in reply to the woman before him. “The rivers of the Lethe overflow in the Underground. We have remained unaffected thus far. The elven kingdom has no ideas thus far how to stop the river from flowing. I have heard whispers of the river of the dead creeping upon your lands, Jareth.”

“Nonsense.” Jareth responded with a stoic expression, appearing unaffected by this news, but trepidation coursed through his veins.

“Yes, my son.” Finvarra explained with his deep baritone sadly. “One of court’s messengers crossed paths with a Dryad in the northern woods of your lands. They have been forgetting themselves.” The High King’s brow furrowed in frustration. “You would think that I would have some knowledge of how to stop all this as High King, but the old gods will not answer me. They taunt me with their silence while our lands and our people suffer.”

“I may have a solution.” Morrigan offered silkily. Finvarra and Una eyed the witch curiously while Jareth eyes burned with rage.

“You have no solution, Morrigan.” Jareth ground out. “Do not even speak of it.” Finvarra held up a hand to his son to silence.

“True, your solutions are oft not my solutions, Morrigan.” Finvarra responded. “However, we are desperate, lest we all soon forget who we are. Out with it, Morrigan. What do you propose?” Morrigan smiled delicately and fingered the obsidian pearls around her neck thoughtfully.

“I have seen it in a vision. If you recall, some thirteen years ago, the Labyrinth had a runner, a young mortal woman who wished away a child to your son. It was predicted by the four ancient gods of the Tuatha de Danaan that the child would be Jareth’s heir. The young woman was not supposed to reach the center of the Labyrinth.” Morrigan glared at Jareth. “She was not supposed to win back the child.”

“Shut your mouth, witch. You do not know what you speak of.”

“Oh, Jareth.” Morrigan laughed. “You are weak. Half-human AND bested by a mortal woman. This young woman not only took back the child, but she took part of Jareth’s power, announced herself his equal and destroyed his kingdom in the process.”

“Morrigan,” Una responded patiently. “We know this story.”

“Ah, but what you don’t know is that the Four gave your step-son a charge, in which he has failed.” Finvarra looked at Morrigan quizzically. “The four ancient gods gave King Jareth ten years in which to return either the heir or Sarah Williams to the Underground.”

“The ten years would have been up when…” Finvarra trailed off mystified.

“When the rivers of the Lethe broke free in the Underground.” Una finished.

“Precisely. The waters are ravaging our lands due to Jareth’s failure. I prayed to the Four many times.” Morrigan continued. “I was blessed with a vision. Since Jareth has failed in his charge, and the heir to the Labyrinth is nowhere to be found, they offered me a prophecy. The Champion’s blood will end the tides of the Lethe.”

“Why is it always a blood sacrifice with you, Morrigan?” Una chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“Her blood will solve nothing.” Jareth responded.

“It is the only solution. We happened upon the mortal Champion, Sarah Williams, in the old lands, but she took flight with Robin Goodfellow. One should never trust a Puck.” Morrigan responded with ire. “That means, however, that she is most likely somewhere in the Underground. I intend to locate her and bring an end to this madness.” Una tilted her head to one side.

“I cannot condone the killing of mortals, Morrigan, but I confess I have no love for them. While I do not outwardly support you, I will not stand in your way.” Una admitted. Finvarra remained silent.

“We will look for another way, my son.” Finvarra stated sympathetically. The Dagda had remained silent all the while, torn between his love for his grandson, his loyalty to his dark bride, and the future of the Underground.

“Jareth,” Una said quietly. “She is just a mortal. Her life is fleeting, a short flame. It is one life for the lives of the underground.”  


“So one mortal life is meaningless? My mother was a mortal.”

“Jareth, that is not what I meant.” Una responded. She attempted to place a delicate hand on his shoulder. “But it is sacrificing one life for the sake of many. What else is there to be done?”

“I’m not sure.” He offered helplessly. “If I could just find her and speak with her though.” Jareth grimaced. “I don’t want her to die.”

“She will come under no harm from us.” Finvarra announced. “No harm in this castle. Would that I could help you more.” Jareth opened his mouth to speak, but there was a sudden chittering in the distance. He groaned.

“Not now. Of all times.” The chittering morphed into an ominous drone, a human wish echoing in the palace walls.

‘ _I wish…_ ’ Jareth turned his gaze heavenward and sighed, his white poet’s shirt and dove grey tights morphing into goblin armor. ‘ _I wish the goblins would take me away.’_ Jareth winked out of existence, leaving his family in Cnoc Meadha. ‘ _Right now.’_ The wish led Jareth to a familiar house by a familiar park. There, sitting in the childhood bedroom of Sarah William’s, was a lanky and perturbed fourteen-year-old boy. He had a worn red leather book in his lap and a scowl across his face with crossed arms. Jareth appeared in front of Toby Williams with all the pomp and circumstance and glitter he could muster. The teenager swallowed nervously.

“Goblin King,” He stated. “Where is my sister?”

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When Sarah opened her eyes, she was not alone. Not two feet in front of her sat an exquisite creature, skin the shade of forest green, hair falling in rope like braids the texture of gnarled bark, auburn leaves and green saplings twined throughout her hair. Sarah said nothing at first, her emerald eyes gazing steadily at the hickory eyes in front of her.

“You’re beautiful.” Sarah exhaled softly. The lips of the creatures turned up at the corners, and she let out tinkling laughter in joy.

“ _You_ are beautiful, Banrion.” Sarah looked at the lovely creature in front of her in confusion at the term. She wore no clothes, but bark twined around her figure. Sarah couldn’t tell if she was more tree or woman. “Hello, Sarah Williams. We have been waiting for you.”

“Who are you?” _What are you?_

“Mortals cannot pronounce my true name. It is in an ancient tongue that no one but the trees remember, but you may call me Dryope.” She smiled prettily. “Humans have called us Dryads for thousands of years, but we are more than that, guardians of these ancient woods.”

“Well, Dryope.” Sarah rose quickly and dusted off her jeans. She curtsied without a though. “A pleasure to meet you under these unfortunate circumstances. I hope we can be friends.”

“Oh, my, you are a charming mortal.” Dryope’s voice was as calm as the gentlest autumn breeze. “Welcome to these woods. I can tell you mean no harm.” The dryad looked momentarily pensive. “But you are running from harm, yes?” The dryad clasped both of Sarah’s hands. “I saw you with the puck earlier. You must be careful with Robin Goodfellow. We adore him, but he is all trouble.” Sarah smiled ruefully.

“I was running from a certain monarch, and the puck was my only option.”

“Hmm.” The dryad began to stroke her long hair pensively. “Oh, you mean the Goblin King.” The dryad smiled sensuously. “We do love him too. But also, he is all trouble.”

“You know him?” Sarah asked. Dryope smiled secretly.

“In more ways than one, young Champion.” The dryad winked. Sarah felt her pulse quicken and sucked in a breath at the mention of the Goblin King. She felt a little ill at the dryad’s implication, ignoring the strange rolling in her gut at the thought of him with the tree nymph in front of him. She squashed down the rush of memories of him, of being swept into his arms in a crystal ballroom. She had almost believed him sincere then, but she was just a girl, and it was all a ploy to beat her. She remembered Jareth towering over her in her apartment, his hand running down her shoulder, his hand outstretched to her by the river in Galway. He looked like he did at the end of her Labyrinth run, begging for her to choose her dreams. _Fear me. Love me. Do as I say. Bullshit,_ Sarah thought. He was beautiful, more beautiful than any mortal man, but he was dangerous. She told herself she didn’t care. “Although, he has not visited us in that way in some centuries, I would take him as a lover again.” Sarah rolled her eyes in disgust. Jareth really was a bastard. The dryad continued. “Do not be so quick to judge him. Our king is not always what he seems and sometimes much more.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“Jareth is a mercurial being, but a good king.”

“When he’s not stealing babies or poisoning young girls with peaches.”

“I never said he wasn’t cruel. But he is a good king. The Tuatha de Danaan are capricious. He never lies, but he coerces and tricks. He never lets his kingdom go hungry but will not tolerate treachery. He takes children, but only when they are wished away. There are rules in the Underground, rules which Jareth is bound by. Everything is a game here, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Did you not wish your own brother away?”

“W-well, yes.” Sarah sputtered. “But I was a young girl.”

“Yet your brother remains unharmed. And now you are a woman and realize your errors. Was that not a generous lesson?” Sarah said nothing, annoyed at the familiar turn of phrase. “Come, have you not missed the mysteries of this place?” Sarah looked at the canopy of trees wistfully.

“I may have missed this place, but I wouldn’t call the Goblin King generous. He is deceitful.”

“True...” Dryope was about to respond further, but the dryad suddenly cried out and double-over, gripping her abdomen in pain.

“I apologize, Champion, but these tremors will soon pass.” The Dryad closed her eyes attempting to calm her shaking form. Sarah reached out both of her hand to grasps Dryope’s shoulders and guide her to the ground.

“Are you alright? What is it?”

Dryope laughed mournfully. “I made a grave error before I came upon you and drank from the stream.” A tear slipped from the dryad’s dark eyes, shimmering to the forest floor below. “I believe the rivers of the Lethe have found the streams of this forest. Soon I will forget myself and what I am. I will join my brothers and sisters.” She smiled at Sarah. “But I am so glad I was able to meet you, Sarah.”

“What do you mean? Forget?”

“Oh my dear child, things are not as they were here. The Underground is changing. Jareth and the old gods have tried to stop it, but the river of the Underworld has broken free. We do not know when or where the springs of the Lethe will crop up.” She looked to the sky. “We do not know which day it will be that we forget. Soon, there will be none of us fairytale creatures left, including your friends here.”

“You mean Hoggle? Ludo? Didymus? But that can’t be!” Sarah said alarmed. “There must be something I can do to help you.” Dryope shook her head sadly.

“There is nothing that can be done, my love. Just stay with me until the end, pretty mortal. Remember me, for even now I forget myself.” Sarah nodded sadly and grasped Dryope’s hand. She watched in horror as the creature’s beautiful eyes became lifeless and clouded over, turning to bark, her feet sinking into the earth to become small roots. Sarah glanced in fascination at Dryope’s hand, which had transformed into a branch onto which Sarah was desperately clutching, the dryad’s hair now the strands of a young willow tree. Sarah averted her gaze to the forest around her, full of young saplings of similar height to Dryope. Sarah could only surmise they were Dryope’s brothers and sisters.

“I’m so sorry.” Sarah whispered. The winds of the Underground howled. “I wish I could have saved you.” She dropped to her knees, fingers digging into the earth. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears pooled under closed lids, sliding down her cheeks to the ground, absorbed by the soil below. She didn’t notice the faint cerulean glow escaping the dirt surrounding her fingertips or the small silent sparks of light that erupted from her tears as they flowed to the earth beneath the roots of the willow.


	7. An Ungrateful Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah has returned to the Underground and reunited with a fiery monarch, much to her ire. Will they be able to save the Underground together?

#  [Chapter 7] — An Ungrateful Guest

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Goblin King or any of Jim Henson's creations. However, all original characters, including Dryope, are mine! Enjoy :).

“I’m so sorry.” Sarah whispered. The winds of the Underground howled. “I wish I could have saved you.” She dropped to her knees, fingers digging into the earth. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears pooled under her closed lids, sliding down her cheeks to the ground, absorbed by the soil below. She didn’t notice the faint cerulean glow escaping the dirt surrounding her fingertips or the small silent sparks of light that erupted from her tears as they flowed to the earth beneath the roots of the willow.

She couldn’t say how long she remained gripping the earth below her hands for.

“Aye,” A soft voice behind her called. “No ye’ have seen it for yourself. Another of us had forgotten ourselves. Hooves crinkled leaves next to her feet as the Puck came upon her. “Dryope was a beautiful sort.”

“I didn’t realize.”

“It’s almost everywhere now. Most of the Labyrinth has been spared, but even now it creeps on the Northern woods. The Elven kingdom has been cunning enough to avoid the loss, but we are delaying the inevitable. The River of the Dead has escaped the underworld and takes the underground with it.”

“This is awful.” Sarah stared at her hands in her lap helplessly and she couldn’t help but think of all the creatures she happened upon in the Labyrinth, of her friends, Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus, and of her bewildering nemesis.

“Yes.”

“We have to do something.” She urged. Robin eyed her strangely, as if he was trying to figure out how to fit together the pieces of a very perplexing puzzle.

“What would ye’ do as a mortal?”

“I don’t know! But we can’t let this happen here, not to this place!” Sarah threw up her arms in frustration.

“Morrigan thinks this is your fault.” Robin murmured softly.

“My fault?” She questioned incredulously.

“She believes you caused an imbalance in power in the underground when you conquered the Labyrinth and declared your kingdom equal to Jareth. Four ancient gods gave him a charge to bring you or the heir back to the Underground within a decade of your victory.”

“Over my dead body. I would have never let that happen.”

“Well that is the point, my dear mortal.” Robin smiled eerily with pointed teeth. “Jareth failed ,and three years ago, the rivers of the Lethe came to the waters of the Underground. Morrigan blames your victory and Jareth’s failure for these imbalances. She believes…”

“That killing me will restore balance to this world.” Sarah finished, her eyes wide. “Well that’s just preposterous! I don’t have any powers!”

“Oh?”

“No!” Sarah scuttled back from Robin swiftly. “Do you want to kill me too?” She whispered.

“Oh, not quite.” Robin smiled. “You are _far_ too entertaining to kill. _And_ I just love to get under Jareth’s skin.” Sarah grinned uneasily at him. “No, no. This is too much fun to give up just yet. I will keep helping you much to the Goblin King’s ire. I do love to see ‘im squirm.” Sarah felt a zephyr stirring to her right, and Robin glanced to the willow tree, the drooping branches swaying in the wind. His eyes narrowed on the roots which were glowing almost imperceptibly. Sarah watched curiously as the azure light crept up the willow bark.

“That light …” He murmured. “What did you do?” He looked at Sarah with astonishment.

“I haven’t done anything.” Sarah couldn’t tear her eyes away from the small tree as it shivered and took on the form of a woman once more. Her mouth dropped open and Robin stared in amazement as Dryope opened her eyes, discarding the form of a soulless tree like rain after a storm with three shakes, cerulean and gold dust falling to the forest floor. Dryope smiled and walked towards Sarah. She gripped Sarah gently around her upper arms, pulling her into a fierce embrace.

“What are you?” Puck asked Sarah. “How did you…? What did you…?” He was shaking his head in disbelief. Sarah was completely speechless in the dryad’s embrace.

“Banrion.” Dryope murmured into Sarah’s ear through her chestnut hair. “Thank you. You have returned me to myself, and I can continue to guard this forest.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what I did.” She replied. Dryope pulled back to stare deeply into the young woman’s eyes.

“A gift for you, Banrion.” Before Sarah could stop her, the dryad swiftly pressed her lips to Sarah’s, and Sarah’s eyebrows shot up in shock. She had never kissed a woman before, or a fairy tale creature for that matter. As quickly as she had brushed her lips against Sarah’s, they were gone. Sarah thought she could feel gold dust and magic clinging to her lips. “Your dreams.” The Dryad murmured. Sarah looked at her with a question on her lips, but before she could respond, she felt herself falling to the earth below, Robin’s arms guiding her to the ground.

The Puck’s brows furrowed as he studied the sleeping human woman. “What do we do with you now, Sarah Williams?”

J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/

“Well?” Toby asked the man dressed in black in front of him, mustering up his courage. Jareth said nothing at first, appraising the teenager in from of him who was clutching Sarah’s copy of _The Labyrinth_ in his hand. “I know it was you who took her.”

“Hello, Tobias. I’m surprised you know who I am.”

“It’s Toby.” The teen corrected the monarch. “I read the book. I know who you are. I remember you. Sarah thinks I don’t remember, but I heard her talking to the mirror in her room to some dwarf named Hedgehog.” He pronounced. Jareth attempted to hide his chuckle behind a black leather glove. “This isn’t funny! I know she wished me away when I was a baby. It was hard to forgive her…but anyway that doesn’t matter. Riona called the house from Galway freaking out, asking if I heard from her. Sarah’s missing as well. What did you do with her?”

“I did not take her.”

“Lies.”

“If you know what I am, Toby, you know I cannot lie.” Toby’s eyes narrowed.

“But you know who did.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” Toby demanded defiantly. That defiance was so familiar to him, Jareth mused to himself with nostalgia, so like his sister. Jareth tapped a gloved finger against his chin thoughtfully.

“Hmm…yes, under one condition. I will tell you.”

“Name it.”

“You will help me save her.” Jareth held out his hand to the young man before him. Toby Williams stared at the black glove in front of him with trepidation. Sarah had warned him to never strike a bargain with a fae, but this was his sister’s life. Without a second thought, much like his older sister, Toby grabbed Jareth’s hand.

“Deal.” He whispered shaking his hand quickly.

“A bargain has been struck. It was the trickster Puck, Robin Goodfellow, and he wants your sister dead.”

“What?!”

“Are you ready foolish and brave, Tobias Williams?”

“For what?”

“Why, to return to the Labyrinth, of course.” Jareth flashed a feral smile, his sharp teeth catching in the light. Toby attempted to pull his hand away, but it was too late. The earth swirled around them and disappeared, morphing into the throne room in the castle beyond the Goblin City. “Welcome back, young master.” He grinned, a group of goblins surrounding them with interest.

“How do we find Sarah?”

“Well, I don’t exactly know where…wait,” Jareth could feel a familiar pull from the pit of his stomach. Another summons. Not a wish. A dream. Someone was dreaming of him.

“Hey!” Toby exclaimed. “Don’t ignore me.” Jareth didn’t respond. He turned from Toby and walked briskly to the balcony. A dreamer in the northern woods. That could only be one person. He quickly transformed into an owl and took flight, leaving a bewildered Toby Williams gaping after him.

J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/J/S/

When Sarah opened her eyes, a familiar damp smell greeted her. She was in an oubliette. She could not for the life of her figure out how she arrived there.

 _“So this is where you put me then_?” A familiar sensuous male voice asked in the darkness before her. Sarah shut her eyes tightly attempting to ignore the voice. _“Sarah.”_ She opened her eyes to two beautiful mismatched ones. Jareth. _“Hello.”_ He murmured.

 _“How did I get here?”_ She asked vehemently, stepping back.

 _"You put yourself here.”_ He chuckled, eyes flashing with mirth, moving closer to her. _“That’s the honest truth.”_

 _“Let me go.”_ She took a step back

 _“Never.”_ He stepped closer to her again as his face grew serious. _“I will never let you go. I can’t.”_

 _“Please. You don’t even know me.”_ Sarah tried to take another step back but panicked as her heel and back hit the stone wall of the oubliette behind her.

 _“You don’t even know yourself.”_ He growled, his hands slammed on either side of her, and her breath hitched in surprise. She was trapped. He had walked her right up to the wall. He was so close, she could smell him, the earth and spice and electric scent of his magic. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. _“Why are you fighting me?”_ He brought his lips down to her neck and dragged his nose up to the curve of her jaw, inhaling deeply. She shivered. Why was she resisting him? She could feel him pause. He wouldn’t. She could feel him smile into her neck, as he nipped her with his sharp teeth and licked the skin there. Sarah closed her eyes, suppressing a moan. _“You could just so easily give in_.” A gloved hand came to rest on the bare skin under her shirt just above her jeans. He began to caress the skin of her abdomen, fingers walking achingly slow up her ribs. She shuddered as his thumb brushed the underside of her breast. _“You want me.”_ He commanded decisively.

_"I…”_

Everything happened too quickly. A scream pierced the air of the oubliette and Sarah clutched at her ears. The boundaries of the oubliette began to dissolve to darkness. It wasn’t real. She shook her head and the dream dissolved. When she opened her eyes, she was back on the forest floor. Dryope was screaming as Robin Goodfellow stood over her with a short-pointed blade, a blank expression over his face.

“No, Robbie! Please!” Sarah begged.

“I’m sorry, Sarah. Now I’ve seen it, the power you have. We need it back. Morrigan was right. This is for the Underground. I wish it could end differently for you, Champion.” He lifted the blade above his head, ready to bring it down to pierce her heart. Sarah closed her eyes and covered her face with her arms, bracing for the blow that never came. There was a flutter of wings above and a flash of scorching heat. “Damn it, Jareth!” Robin yelled. He was cradling the hand that had been holding the knife. There was a pool of molten steel on the ground where the Puck had been standing. “You ruin everything.”

Sarah opened her eyes, bewildered at the scene before her. Jareth was livid. His eyes were black burning coals, filled with fury and something else. Concern? Jareth’s expression quickly regained control. He briefly made eye contact with her.

“Are you alright?” He asked curtly. Sarah nodded numbly in affirmation. “Good. Puck, I should kill you, but I don’t have the time.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “If I see your face in my kingdom again, it will be the last of you. Do you understand?” The Puck said nothing, his gaze filled with hatred as he cradled his charred hand. Jareth stalked towards him, grabbing him around the neck and lifting him up. “Do. You. Understand?” He ground out.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Good.” He said darkly with disgust, dropping Robin to the earth. “Now, go.” Jareth turned slowly towards Sarah, cautiously. She averted her gaze quickly, attempting to hide the color that came to her cheeks. _That dream. He couldn’t possibly know._ “I wouldn’t run if I were you. I know what you’re thinking.” _If only he knew._

“I—you saved me.” She said with wonder. “Th---” Sarah stopped herself and just stared at him. He smiled like a wolf. _Yep,_ she thought. _Still dangerous._

“Ah,” He said shortly. “You stopped yourself. Smart girl to not put yourself in my debt, although, it matters not. You are in my kingdom now, and so my subject. My rules. And what a naughty subject you have been.” He murmured, walking closer to her. “I told you he couldn’t be trusted.”

“Oh!” She bristled. “And you can?”

“Sarah,” he sighed with exasperation. “I told you I won’t harm you. Besides I have something you want.”

“As if you have anything I want.” She rolled her eyes. He tsked.

“Are you so sure?” He cocked his head to the side and smirked as he summoned a crystal to his fingertips, holding it out to her. Sarah peered into its depths and she spotted an exasperated Toby surrounded by a band of Goblins.

“Toby!” She cried. “No! What is he doing here?”

“He is helping me save you, you daft woman!” He scolded impatiently. “I wouldn’t have had to bring him if you would have just come here three years ago, _or_ if you just taken my damn hand at the river.”

“I can’t trust a single thing you say. I have done everything in my power to keep him safe, to keep him away from this place. This is the one thing I didn’t want for him. You’re so manipulative and deceitful, tricking poor Toby into coming to the Underground!”

“I didn’t have a choice, Sarah, but fine!” Jareth yelled in frustration. Dryope continued to watch the couple with amused interest. “Stay here with the dryads. See if I care about what happens to you when the other things come out that go bump in the night.” Jareth turned to leave and take flight, when he felt a small tug at the back of his cape.

“Wait.” Sarah murmured, her small hands clutching at his cape. “Please.” Jareth looked up to the skies. This human woman was going to be the death of him. He sighed openly. “I still don’t trust you, but please, please take me to my brother.”

“Danu, help me.” He murmured to himself. Jareth turned around. He held up a gloved finger in front of her. “No more yelling.” He commanded. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jareth pressed a butter soft leather finger to her lips. “Just wait to hear me out.” He entreated softly. Sarah closed her mouth angrily. “Close your eyes. It makes it easier.”

“Makes what easier?” Jareth smiled and wrapped an arm around her. She attempted to struggle away at first, but the world shifted under her feet, and she clutched onto his arms for dear life. She felt her stomach drop from beneath her and her heart fly up into her throat as she lost the ground beneath her feet. They were back in the throne room in the castle beyond the Goblin City. She looked up at Jareth’s face, her own a sickly green. “Urgh.” She said eloquently, still gripping onto his firm biceps like they were the only thing keeping her upright.

“Transportation.” He finished smugly.

“You’re a bastard.” She ground out. Realizing she was still gripping the muscles of his upper arms, Sarah pushed the Goblin King back from her swiftly. He released her without argument. Sarah whipped around to see a messy mop of chestnut brown hair and laughter as her younger brother attempted to entertain the goblins.

“Toby!” She cried. Her brother’s head whipped around.

“Sarah! You’re okay!” He ran to her laughing. They hugged fiercely. “I didn’t know what to think. I thought you were…”

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” She asked searchingly. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to save you.” Toby said proudly. “The Goblin King brought me.” He glanced at the monarch, who stood back from the siblings, allowing them a reunion without interference.

“Toby,” Sarah said. “How did you even know about him? He’s dangerous.”

“Sarah, I know you wished me away when I was a baby…”

“What? How? Toby – I’m -”

“It’s okay.”

“No, Toby.” She said firmly, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s not. I’m so sorry.”

“I forgave you a long time ago, Sar.” He gave her a lopsided grin, which reminded her so much of their father. “I know you love me and fought for me.”

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered.” She said as she smiled back at him, soaking in as much of her brother as she could muster. “Toby, I love you.”

“I love you too, sis.”

“Don’t hate me.” She whispered and clasped both of his hands. “Jareth.” She said his name without turning away from her brother’s questioning gaze. “Please send Toby back home.” Toby shook his head.

“I’m not leaving without you, Sarah!”

“Toby, it’s okay. I’ve been through this before. Your place is home with dad and Karen.”

“No!”

“This is NOT a negotiation for you.” She replied firmly. “I fought too hard to get you back to go through risking losing you to this world again.” Jareth walked over to the siblings with purpose. He laid a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“He could always stay in your stead, Sarah.” The monarch offered. She shook his hand off of her shoulder and glared at him.

“You know that’s not an option for me.”

“Sarah, look at me.” Jareth urged. She turned slowly towards him releasing her brother’s hands to meet Jareth’s mismatched eyes. “You don’t want to hear this, but my castle is the safest place for your brother right now. Now that the Puck knows of your brother, he’s not safe in your world, either. I can at least offer him some protection here.” Sarah closed her eyes. She had lost control of the situation so quickly. “He’s in more danger in your world than in mine at present.” She bit her lower lip in deep thought.

“I need your word that no harm will come to him.”

“You have my word.”

“I need an oath, something more substantial.” She huffed. Jareth smiled, which made her more nervous. He began to remove one of his gloves with his teeth. She watched in fascination as he exposed his pale skin to air. She had never seen his bare hands before. “What are you doing?” she asked hurriedly.

“You asked for something more substantial.” He answered with amusement. “Give me your hand.” She didn’t budge. “Oh, for Danu’s sake, Sarah. Must you be so stubborn. I’m not going to harm you.” He grabbed her hand and placed his bare palm against hers. She shuddered at the contact, her palm tingling with tiny shocks from his skin pressed against hers. “I, Jareth, Goblin King, Master of the Labyrinth, High Prince of the Underground, do solemnly vow that no harm shall come to you, Sarah Williams, or your brother, Tobias Williams, while you are in the Underground as my guests under my protection.” Her palm burned and tingled briefly as Jareth finished speaking and she snatched her hand away. He smirked at her knowingly. There was a soft glowing light in the middle of her palm, the same shape as his pendant. It pulsed a deep ocean blue briefly and settled into her skin. She attempted brushing it away with her thumb, but it didn’t budge, almost as if it were tattooed into her skin.

“What is this?” She asked in amazement.

“My word.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Come.” He turned swiftly and beckoned to the siblings. “I will show you to your rooms. You must both be exhausted.” Sarah tilted her head to the side and stared after him curiously. She just couldn’t figure him out. Toby made to follow the Goblin King, but he stopped to wait for his sister who hadn’t moved from her spot. Jareth quickly realized they weren’t following him. He rolled his eyes and turned to them. “I haven’t got all night.” He stated in an exasperated tone. “I have other things to do besides babysit the Williams siblings.” The Goblins tittered at their expense. Sarah grumbled with annoyance as she began to follow him out of the throne room, Toby running up beside her. They said nothing as they walked in silence through the expansive stone corridors. Sarah was curious about the castle, as she had only seen the throne room and Escher room on her prior visit.

The corridors remained lit only in front of and just behind them, sconces lighting the way in front of them and flickering out behind them. Sarah glanced behind her and noted the hallway was bathed in darkness. They walked out into crisp air across a covered walkway with great stone pillars and arches. Sarah paused momentarily. It was still night in the Labyrinth; two moons hung low near the horizon, flickering stars above them that seemed unable to stay still as they zipped across the sky.

“I’ve never seen any place like this.” Toby whispered, coming to stand beside her.

Sarah peered into the distance. She didn’t notice that Jareth had walked up right behind her.

“Yes, beautiful isn’t it?” Jareth responded, his nearness making her jump and turn suddenly. The king’s eyes flickered away from her and settled on the woods on the horizon. Jareth pointed over her shoulder with a gloved hand. “Over there are the Northern woods, where I found you.” His finger drew slightly closer to the castle and he pointed to a great moat and drawbridge in the distance. “And that is the Northern entrance to the Labyrinth, not the same entrance you came through on your last visit, Sarah.” His lips quirked as he drew out her name slowly.

“I don’t recognize anything.” She whispered, looking out beyond the castle.

“While the Labyrinth has changed since your last visit, you would recognize more on the southern border of my castle.” He responded, his breath tickling the hairs by her ear. She stepped back from him and he chuckled. “Come, I’ll show you both more of the castle and grounds tomorrow.” He continued walking, and they scurried after him through the passageway.

They entered a great hall lined on one side with gilded mirrors and great arched windows on the other, two gilded doors at the end of the hall. Jareth began to walk towards the doors but turned left down another hall before they reached the doors.

“Your majesty?” Toby asked as they walked down quickly the hallway, Jareth’s boots echoing off the stone. Jareth glanced behind him as they walked.

“Hm?” He replied.

“What is behind those great doors?” He asked. Even though he was a brooding teenager, Toby couldn’t keep the childish excitement out of his voice, his curiosity palpable.

“Ah,” Jareth began and locked eyes briefly with Sarah. “Your sister would be familiar with that room.” He responded in a light tone.

“The Escher Room.” Sarah muttered to herself. “Figures.”

“Oh no, not the Escher room.” Jareth laughed mischievously with a wide and bright smile. Sarah felt something squeeze briefly in her chest. She had never seen him laugh like that before. “The ballroom.” He murmured. Sarah halted.

“What?” She asked in shock. “But that wasn’t…”

“Oh, I assure you, precious thing, my ballroom is quite real. It took the better part of three years to repair the damage from that chair you smashed the walls with.”

“Sarah, you ruined his ballroom?” Toby asked incredulously.

“I was trying to save you!” She retorted. “I thought it was a dream.”

“Funny that.” Jareth quipped. “The lines between dreams and reality are not so defined in my realm as they are in yours. It was quite a pleasant party up until the clock struck.” Jareth smiled at her knowingly, and she glanced away, breaking eye contact. He began to ascend a staircase at the end of the hall. “Your rooms are in the northern tower of my castle, just below mine. I suggest you both get some rest tonight. We all have much to discuss tomorrow. Toby, yours is first.” He opened a door to his right. Bright oak wood furniture adorned the room. There was a small fireplace to the left of the bed, a tan fur rug in front of the fire. The young teen bounded into his room and jumped onto the king-sized bed, which was covered in dark red satin sheets.

“Cool. This is like four times the size of my room at home. The only thing it’s missing is my guitar.” A bright red Fender Standard Stratocaster and Twin Reverb Amp suddenly appeared to the right of the bed. “WOAH!” He jumped out of the bed and examined the guitar. “And snacks.” A Mountain Dew and bag of Cheetos appeared on the nightstand. “Amazing.” He softly fingered the neck of the guitar.

“The room will respond to your desires.” Jareth chuckled from the doorway. “Try not to abuse the privilege.”

“Oh, I won’t. But wow! This is so cool.” Toby exclaimed as his lifted the guitar and placed the strap over his shoulder.

“It is also soundproof.” He murmured with a smile, turning to Sarah who was watching her brother with concern, unimpressed. He frowned at her expression.

“Toby, remember, we’re going home after this. And try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Goodnight, Sarah.” Toby rushed them back over to the door and began closing it. “Cool tricks, your majesty. See you in the morning.” He shut the door in their face.

“Did he just kick us out?” Jareth asked, affronted.

“Yep.” She smiled. “Teenagers.” She replied as they both stared at the wooden door. Without Toby next to them, an awkward silence settled over the pair. “So…” she started softly.

“I’ll show you your room.” He stated coldly and walked farther up the tower steps.

‘ _He’s so…. moody.’_ She thought. He stopped abruptly in front of a dark wooden door and appeared conflicted; his mismatched eyes stormy with an unnamed emotion.

“You will be staying here.” He stated flatly and opened the door. “Ladies first.” He inclined his head and motioned for her to step inside. She eyed him suspiciously as she stepped into the room and gasped slightly. She felt as though she had stepped into the queen’s chamber at Versailles. The entire room was bathed in a soft white light and accented in golden adornments, crisp white sheets covered the massive bed, a fire crackling in the white marble fireplace. A plush white rug covered the marble floor at the foot of the bed.

“This is too much. I can’t stay here.”

“Sarah.” He sighed. “Would you have me place you in an oubliette? These rooms are the closest to my own. They afford you and your brother the most protection. Please don’t argue with me.” He sounded exhausted. She said nothing but did not argue with him. There was something he wasn’t telling her. “Silence? Now that’s a change.” She opened her mouth to argue with him, but he was smiling down at her with mirth, so she thought better of it. “I will send a Goblin for both you and your brother in the morning. We will meet in my study and discuss your roles in this mess.”

“Our roles?”

“Yes, but for now, get some rest. There is a washroom adjoining your room back there.” He pointed to the left-hand corner of the room. “Don’t try wandering the halls or go out of the castle.” He commanded ominously. “I’ll know if you do. Should you need anything, I am right up the stairs, the next door on the right.” Sarah bristled at his tone.

“I won’t need you.” She spat venomously, annoyed with his pompous attitude.

He rolled his eyes. “So sure, are you?”

“Yes.” She replied, fire in her eyes. He frowned at her response.

“Such ingratitude from a woman whose life I just saved.” He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space. “Such insolence against the crown should be punished.” He murmured softly, grabbing her chin gently with his gloved hand.

“Jareth, I’m not one of your subjects to be ordered about. I’m here very much against my will.” She glared up at him defiantly, attempting to swat his hand away. He released her chin but did not break her gaze. His mismatched eyes bore into her own. It was wreaking all sorts of havoc on her insides, being so close to him, but she squashed down whatever emotion or physical attraction it was she was feeling into the deepest corner of her mind. “Look.” She sighed closing her eyes and placed a hand over her eyes and forehead, resting her other hand on an elbow. “This is not what I intended. I have a life. I don’t know what your motives are. I don’t trust you, but I don’t want the creatures in the Underground to suffer.” He cocked his head at her.

“I can assure you, Sarah Williams, that this is not what I intended either, but like it or not, the fate of my world seems to somehow be at least partially dependent on you.” He explained in exasperation. “Which we can all discuss tomorrow _after_ some much needed rest.” He tapped her nose with a finger. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you right now, you precious thing.” She huffed indignantly, an angry flush covering her cheeks. “Although you do look fetching with those bright pink cheeks.” He smiled down at her.

“Stop treating me like a child!”

“Stop acting like one.” He replied. She took a deep breath and stopped herself.

“This isn’t going anywhere.” She sighed.

“Well we agree on that one thing.” He said in a clipped tone. “With that, I bid you good evening, lady.” Jareth bowed briefly and turned from her. “Goodnight, Sarah.” He stalked out of the room into the hall. She bit her lip.

“Wait.” She said walking after him, leaning on the heavy wooden door to the hall.

“What grievance must you air now?” He replied angrily, turning back to her, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I’m not…it’s just…” She stuttered, unable to meet his eyes.

“Out with it.” He said impatiently.

“You didn’t have to save me earlier.” She said, looking at the ground by her feet. She chose her words carefully without thanking him, not wanting to be in his debt. “I am grateful.” She whispered, glancing up at him. Jareth’s eyes softened slightly.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He replied.

“Goodnight, Jareth.” She said softly as she looked him while closing the door, not breaking his gaze until it shut. She walked to the bed, collapsing onto it, not even bothering to change. Oubliette dreams and death threats and overbearing monarchs had taken all of her reserves. Exhaustion overcame her, and she closed her eyes, praying for sleep.

Jareth continued to stand outside her door for several moments, staring at it, confounded by the perplexing mortal woman behind the closed door. He would never understand her. The edges of his mouth turned up slightly and he walked up the stairs, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls as he made his way to his own chambers.


End file.
